


Twilight: ReVamped

by luway



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: 80s AU, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Chan is really bad at being a vampire, Fluff and Humor, Hyunjin is a God, M/M, Sassy Minho, Seungmin is a tree, Vampires, all tags are important i assure you, but like a serious one, its barely there but be safe lads, lowkey a crack fic, there's mentions of suicide in ch3 btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-10-15 16:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luway/pseuds/luway
Summary: “Ouch! What the-?”The man stumbles away from Minho with a hand gripping the junction of his neck and shoulder. Minho’s jaw feels sore, as if he clenched his teeth too hard.Oh my god I just bit a fucking vampire. Is all Minho can think as he stares at the vampire dude—who could just be another one of the junkies that lives around the corner, but those fangs look pretty damn real."I might be a fucking snack but I can bite back, bitch."





	1. a bitch bites back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't ask just sit back and enjoy the ride
> 
> unbeta'd as usual

  For Lee Minho, life has always been somewhat of an adventure, in the sense where he never was really sure about what would come next. He certainly didn’t think he would be attacked outside of his own apartment. Okay so technically that part wasn’t surprising, Minho had experienced much worse outside of his apartment than a simple mugging. Hell, this time there wasn’t even a gun.

 

  Just a vampire.

 

  Minho is just getting home from class when it happens, fumbling through his pocket to grab his keys. There’s a faint rustling down the street, the sound of trash cans bumping into each other. There’s a hushed hiss of someone swearing. Minho doesn’t think too much of it, there’s a crack dealer that lives right around the corner, it’s probably one of his junkies.

 

  It’s when things go deathly silent that Minho gets worried. Even the crickets have stopped chirping.

 

  “Who’sther ?” Minho calls out, words slurring together around the unlit cigarette between his lips.

 

The street is empty, or at least it looks to be. Minho has a strange feeling of being watched though, something making the hair on the back of his neck stick up.

 

  Then there’s a faint whistle of air, and all the sudden there’s a hard body standing right in front of Minho, a pair of hands holding him hostage against the door. The air is dragged out of his lungs with the shock of the impact.

 

   _How the fuck—?_

 

  See, Minho has seen some pretty crazy stuff in his life. You don’t usually get around in a city like this without seeing something batshit crazy at least once, but this is new. Very new.

 

   _“Shh, just relax.”_ The man says in a gentle voice, as if that will do anything to calm the violent thumping of Minho’s heart and the blood rushing past his ears.

 

  A strange feeling of calmness comes over him, locking his limbs in place but filling his head with a gentle fog that smooths over the harsh thoughts of terror. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees a flash of teeth, and feels his heart skip a beat when he sees a long canine.

 

  “Oh, God.” Minho squeezes his eyes shut, opens them, then again. Nothing changes.

 

  There’s no way, but there’s also no way what he’s thinking can be true. It just can’t be real. No way.

 

  Vampires don’t exist, no human has a tooth that fucking long.

 

  Minho doesn’t get to think much about it before the man is leaning in, and Minho’s brain shuts down to a simple fight or flight response, except his legs feel like jelly. So he’s not running anywhere.

 

  “ _Ouch!_ What the fuck?”

 

  The man stumbles down the steps, away from Minho with a hand gripping the junction of his neck and shoulder. Minho’s jaw feels sore, as if he clenched his teeth too hard.

 

 _Oh my god I just bit a fucking vampire._ Is all Minho can think as he stares at the vampire dude—who could just be another one of the junkies that lives around the corner, but the sharp canines look terrifyingly real to Minho.

 

  The man has pale curly blonde hair that is actually pretty cute, and a pretty face with soft edges but a killer jaw—Minho isn’t ashamed, he knows to appreciate these things—and gentle eyes. Strange for someone who is probably going to kill Minho very soon, especially if those fangs have anything to say about it. The jean jacket the man wears swallows him up, and makes him look thinner than he actually is with his skinny jeans and boots. Minho wonders for a second if he was mistaken, because there’s no way that a boy who looks so normal—albeit a little on the pale side—could be a blood sucking demon. Could he?

 

  Minho tries to remember the last time he smoked something.

 

  The maybe-vampire looks shocked as he stares up at Minho. The indent of Minho’s teeth in the pale skin of the strangers neck a stark contrast. Must’ve hurt, Minho hopes it did.

 

  “Did you just—?” The man looks up at Minho with an incredulous expression.

 

  “I might be a fucking snack but I can bite back, bitch.” Minho says breathlessly as he jabs a finger in the direction of the vampire, legs still wobbling underneath him as his head clears of the unnatural fog that had filled it when the man first appeared.

 

  If the vampire could have, Minho thinks that he would have been blushing. He certainly looks like he has no idea what to do right now.

 

  Either way Minho gets ready to snap his teeth again if the guy comes anywhere near him. He’ll show this vamp what it’s like to be bit if it kills him. His fingers are crossed that it doesn’t though.

 

  Before Minho can make a move though, the vampire lets out an embarrassed noise and is gone. A gentle whoosh of air and the surface of the puddle he had been standing on is covered in ripples.

 

  Minho feels his head spin dangerously as he looks around, arms tensing up, ready for another attack. But it seems like the vampire is gone.

 

  It takes a few minutes more for Minho’s head to clear, and for him to find his keys on the ground where he had dropped them. His hands are trembling still as he fits the key into the door and pushes inside, locking every deadbolt that lines it. Even the flimsy chain at the top that is probably broken.

 

_Did that just fucking happen?_

 

  Minho presses a cold hand against his forehead, and lets it fall to his neck, where he can still feel a slight tingling sensation where the vampire’s lips had brushed against his skin.

  
  
  
  


  Minho rushes upstairs and nearly smashes his phone when he snatches it off the table, taking the receiver with him and pacing himself into a knot of wires as he waits for Hyunjin to answer his call.

 

_“Hey Minho whats up—”_

 

  “Hyunjin I just got attacked by a fucking vampire!” Minho hisses through grit teeth, the cord of the phone tangled up in his fist as his eyes flicker around the apartment suspiciously.

 

  He’s got to be on some kind of drug. That’s the only explanation.

 

  Minho tries to keep his voice down in case one of his neighbors is home, as the walls in his apartment are absolute shit, and he doesn’t need Mrs. Kim thinking he’s any crazier than she already does.

 

 _“What? What do you mean, Minho, were you bitten? Minho where are you, nevermind you’re at home what am I saying. Okay hold on I’ll be_ right there don’t fucking move—” Hyunjin’s voice suddenly sounds as if it’s in the room with him mid sentence, and Minho looks up from the window  where he had been checking the street for suspicious activity to see Hyunjin in his living room. The young man’s handset to his phone is in his hand with a broken wire, as if he had suddenly cut it.

 

  Minho screams. Hyunjin screams too.

 

  “How the fuck are you in my house? You live across town!” Minho points his own phone set at Hyunjin, eyes wide. A strange aura of light surrounds Hyunjin, slowly fizzling out like a flame without oxygen.

 

  Minho’s legs feel like jelly again.

 

  Hyunjin looks almost as shocked as Minho does, but gathers himself together much faster. He walks around the apartment as if he’s looking for something, all while Minho’s mind is reeling about the past fifteen minutes of his life. He wonders if he accidentally grabbed one of the blunts he keeps instead of his usual cigarette when he walked out of the house today.

 

  There’s no way he isn’t on some kind of drug, or dying. He’s probably dying. That would make sense.

 

  The tequila is finally catching up to him.

 

  “Minho. Minho!” Hyunjin yells, and Minho looks up to find Hyunjin standing right in front of him, holding onto his shoulders and shaking him gently. “You’re safe, okay? There’s nothing in the apartment, I’m here.”

 

  “How—” Minho looks around his apartment, dropping his phone to run his fingers through his hair roughly, tugging at his roots anxiously. “You, you live across town Hyunjin. I called you, I—I know I called you and you were at home how are you here—?”

 

  And that about sums up the night Minho learns that his best friend is a God, vampires are real, and so are countless other fairy tale creatures.

 

  The end.  


  Okay so not really.

 

  Hyunjin explains it best he can, while making Minho a cup of hot chocolate. Because they both could probably use a coffee, but it’s almost eleven at night.

 

  Long story short, yeah, fairy tale creatures are real. Fairies, witches, vampires, werewolves. And Hyunjin is one of them apparently, though that’s probably the least surprising thing about the whole situation.

 

  Hyunjin always did have a certain _otherworldyness_ to him, in both his looks and his personality.

 

  “See, _I_ am a kind of fairy. An ancient subspecies, and extremely rare.” Hyunjin explains as he hands Minho his hot chocolate. “It’s usually a big deal when we show up, like ancient Greece. That was a fun time. I didn’t think the stories would last as long as they have, but it’s always nice to see people enjoying your teen years. More fun if you get to experience it though.”

 

  A lot of what Hyunjin says gives Minho a headache, but he gets the gist of it all after a few aspirin.

 

  He knows for sure that his world is about to get a whole lot weirder.

 

  It does.

 

  Ever since his run in with a vampire, it’s like Minho’s eyes have suddenly had a veil removed from them. He nearly faints the first time he sees a young boy step out of a tree in the park, materializing out of the bark and looking startlingly modern in his clothing and hairstyle. Minho stares as the young boy walks right past him, coffee forgotten in hand when the boy sends him a sly smile. Something about the glint in his eyes tells Minho that the boy knows that he saw what just happened.

 

  No one else around Minho bats an eye when a unicorn trots down the street in front of his apartment.

 

  Sometimes Minho makes the trip to Hyunjin’s place just to sit in his friends giant bed and word vomit every strange thing he’d seen on the way there. Just to make sure it’s real.

 

  “There was a unicorn outside my apartment—“

 

  “Jisung. I’ll introduce you sometime.”

 

  "A tree man—"

 

  "Seungmin. Plays a mean Poker game."

 

  “—and there was witch at the supermarket—”

 

  “That’s Jihye, she’s human. A little kooky but sweet when you take the time to talk to her. She likes the brown m&m's.”

 

  Minho smacks his hand against his cheek a few times, not enough to do more than sting a little and wake him up. He had tried giving up his cup of coffee in the morning, just to make sure the magical creatures that were suddenly a part of his world weren’t some kind of caffeine haze he was going through.

 

  They weren’t.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  It’s been about two months since he was attacked—well, _almost_ attacked—and to be honest, Minho is getting better at this whole second world he’s a part of. It still gives him a headache though, so eventually he decides that since he’s not dying from the tequila, he could use a bit more of it. He usually goes out with Hyunjin, but he’s out of town for the weekend for some ‘family business’ and Minho is slightly unsettled by the fact that that’s all Hyunjin says. Minho is still getting used to the whole, ‘his best friend is an immortal being who’s been alive long enough to have partied Greek style’ thing.

 

  The time since he last went out clubbing showed when he slid into his nice pants earlier that night, finding that they’re more snug than he last remembered. It’s not entirely a bad thing, seeing as the denim hugs his ass in ways that could even make him blush. So he's expecting tonight to be fun.

 

  Minho lets out a huff of air as he pushes into the club bathroom. He hasn’t even been here ten minutes, and he already needs a breather. Something about the packed area is making him lightheaded, and his knees feel slightly weak. They had been ever since he walked past the intimidating bouncer, who had for some reason ushered Minho inside with a small group of people without checking them.

 

  Strange, because the line of people outside the club seemed to be so long, and the bouncer didn’t seem keen on letting just anyone inside.

 

  He pushes his lower lip out as he ruffles his hair up, tilting his head to the side curiously as he looks at himself in the smudged and dirty bathroom mirror.

 

  Hyunjin says that soon enough Minho will have a full on mullet, but Minho doesn’t see it. Sure the hair along his neck is a little long, but it’s not awful, kinda fluffy. Minho tugs at one of the strands that curl under his ear and tilts his head, twisting the lock of hair around his finger before letting it go with a pout. Maybe he does need a haircut.

 

  He looks hot, so what does it matter?

 

  Minho takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head one last time before he steps back into the club.

 

  The music is loud, and nothing in the bathroom seems to have helped the light airy feeling that fills Minho’s head as he walks through the dance floor towards the slightly less crowded bar. He slaps away someone's hand when it comes too close to his hip, not in the mood just yet.

 

  There’s something unsettling about the mist that seems to fill his head, but Minho tries to ignore it. He drags himself up to the bar, leaning his head on his hand as he waits for the bartender to notice him.

 

  Smoke fills the air of the room, and Minho can see people smoking here and there, cigarettes hanging from their lips as they joke and laugh. His eyes pass over a few couples making out on the dance floor, a few with their mouths latched onto their partners necks. The unsettled feeling grows in Minho’s chest as his neck begins to prickle, reminiscent of that night.

 

  Minho averts his eyes quickly and curves his shoulders in on himself.

 

  The bartender still hasn’t shown him any interest, and Minho is beginning to grow annoyed when he huffs, turning to see a familiar face.

 

  At first Minho is shocked into a frozen silence, jaw slack as he stares at the young man.

 

  He’s dressed in a silk shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. The first few buttons loose, revealing a toned chest and a silver cross pendant hanging around his neck—which is kind of weird considering it’s the fucking vampire that attacked him two months ago and ran off before Minho could get another bite in for the road.

 

  Minho’s feet drag him towards the vampire without thinking, hands on his hips as he stalks up to him.

 

  “Hey you! _Vamp boy!”_

 

  In hindsight, it’s not one of Minho’s smartest ideas.

 

  Several people look in his direction, including the vampire, who seems shell shocked at the sight of Minho. Mid sip of his drink—a dark red liquid—and Minho tries to keep his mind from wandering at the sight of the red hue of the man’s lips and the thought of what exactly the liquid could be. He has a few guesses already.

 

  The man throws back his drink in one gulp and slides the glass to the bartender, who catches it with surprising reflexes. Minho doesn't have time to think about that, not when the vampire is trying to run away from him.

 

  “Get back here!” Minho reaches out, grabbing onto the man's wrist just as he bolts through the crowd. And by 'bolts through', Minho means he’s jerked forwards violently, the vampire moving so fast they basically teleport to the back of the club in the blink of an eye.

 

  It's considerably less crowded in the back, and Minho keeps a tight grip on the vampires wrist to keep him from going any further. 

 

  “I didn't do anything I swear!” The vampire seems to realize he's somewhat trapped, looking almost pathetically guilty while he refuses to make eye contact with Minho.

 

  “You fucking attacked me, don't lie!” Minho hissed at the vampire. 

 

  Minho narrows his eyes as he watches the vampire, knowing that the creature could probably snap Minho in half if he really wanted to get away. It would take nothing more than a strong yank to free himself from Minho’s very human grasp. Minho's grip probably isn't even doing anything besides putting himself in danger.

 

  “I’m sorry!” The vampire says, and Minho hesitates a second before he lets go of his arm. Minho crosses his arms over his chest and looks the vampire up and down. The vampire doesn't look like a monster, other than him being paler than most. If anything he looks sweet, like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

 

  “You’re a really bad vampire, do you know that?” Minho finally says, and he watches the vampire deflate.

 

  The vampire sighs, and it takes a second for Minho to realize that he is watching a vampire _pout_ right in front of him. 

 

  “I know… Bambam says I’ll grow into it, but I’m still… _blegh_.” The vampire makes a motion with his arms, like a very depressed and droopy jazz hand number.

 

  “Bambam?” Minho makes a face at the name. “Who’s that?”

 

  “My mentor, I guess.”

 

  “And that _is?”_

 

  The vampire looks at him, confused for a moment it seems. “You come into a vamp bar and don’t even know anything about us?”

 

   _Vamp Bar?_

 

  “—they used to be called Sire’s, but that sounds like, vaguely kinky so we just call them mentors. They’re the senior vampire that you stay with for about a decade after you’re turned. Kind of like a teacher. And technically Bambam isn’t really my Sire, that’s Jaebum, but—”

 

  While the vampire talks, Minho finds himself glancing back out at the club every so often. The feeling of fog has lessened since he and the Vampire started talking, but it’s still at the edge of his consciousness; like a predator watching its prey and letting it think it’s safe the moment before it pounces.

 

  Mino sucks in a shocked breath when he makes eye contact with a girl across the room, her dark maroon colored eyes boring into his own as she pulls off the blonde girl in her arms. There’s a trickle of blood running down the girl—the vampires—chin, and a gash on the blondes neck.

 

  Suddenly Minho realizes, the club is fucking full of vampires.

 

_“Oh my god.”_

 

  Panic overcomes him for a second, his heart rate skyrocketing. The vampires closest to him seem to notice, dark eyes flickering over to stare at him. Some of them look him up and down, one or two lick their lips.

 

   Minho feels like a lamb in a wolf den.

 

  There’s a gentle pressure on his wrist, and Minho glances over to see the Vampire standing next to him, lips quirking up into a brief but reassuring smile.

 

  “Don’t worry, if you stay by me no one will go after you.”

 

  Minho doesn’t know what makes him willing to trust the vampire, after all he was the reason Minho was in this mess in the first place if he really thought about it. If he hadn’t been attacked, or even if he had been attacked by a more competent vampire he would be none the wiser that vampires even existed. At least that's what Hyunjin told him.

 

  The hungry looks directed at him are hard to ignore though.

 

  “Oh—Okay.” Minho nods, eyes wide as he takes a hold of the man’s hand. It’s cold, but the touch seems to magically ward away all the other vampire’s in the room somehow. And sure enough when Minho looks back, they all have moved on to their next prey—though a few of them look fairly disappointed.

 

  “I’m Chan.” The vampire smiles, and Minho isn’t surprised when his eyes choose to stare at the sharp fangs that glitter in the flashing lights of the club.

 

  “Minho.” He says, glad that his voice hasn’t left him. “Can we, uh, sit down? My legs are…”

 

  “Oh yeah of course!” Chan stumbles over himself almost comically, leading Minho over to the row of semicircle booths pressed up against the back wall. Minho practically collapses into the seat, his legs feeling like jello. He's starting to hate that analogy.

 

  “Thank you.” Minho manages, a shiver running down his spine when he feels hungry eyes on him still.

 

  “I’m gonna go get you a water—”

 

  “No-!” Minho grabs Chan’s arm before the vampire can get too far away, eyes flickering past Chan where he swears there are eyes watching him through the crowd, even if he can’t actually see anyone staring. He doesn’t want to find out what happens if Chan is gone for too long, he doesn’t know why Chan’s presence is keeping the other vampires at bay. Hell, he doesn’t even know if he’s safe with Chan either.

 

  He supposes he’ll find out soon though.

 

  “Sorry, I just… They’re watching me.” Minho whispers the last part. He’s not a scaredy cat, he actually fancies himself pretty damn confident, but he doesn’t feel like being a personal blood bag to some crusty old monster who can’t keep their fangs in their mouth. At least Chan is civilized to drink his blood out of a goddamn wine glass, that has to count for something, right?

 

  Chan frowns, but seems to understand what Minho is saying as he slides into the booth beside Minho. “Yeah, they are.”

 

  Something about the way Chan says it makes Minho feel like the vampire wants to say more, but he doesn’t. There is something that makes him wonder though, seeing all the vampires chowing down on human guests.

 

  “How is this even a _thing_?”

 

  Chan looks around at the bar, noticeably more comfortable than Minho is at the smell of hot iron in the air. It makes sense though, seeing as one of them is on the menu and the other is supposed to be buying. Minho curls his shoulders in on himself until he realizes the gaze he feels on himself still is just Chan watching him.

 

  “Vamp Bars? I’m not too sure. I’m not exactly the most educated in all the bylaws and shit, not yet.”

 

  Minho's hairline is spotted with sweat despite the cold that seeps from Chan’s skin into the surrounding air.

 

  He wonders if it’s a vampire thing, or just a Chan thing.

 

  “How exactly is this safe?” Minho says in disgust, watching a male vampire latch onto a human girls neck like a leech at the booth next to them. “What if they _kill_ someone?”

 

  “Well… You saw the line outside right? Bylaws require a strict process for entry to places like these—that way ferals don’t get in. Anything besides feeding is prohibited, and the Veil keeps humans from remembering when they leave.” Chan says it like it’s common knowledge, while it’s really just giving Minho a giant headache.

 

  What the fuck is a feral? Veil? Chan keeps using words that must mean something in his world, but to Minho they’re useless to understanding. He thinks he gets the gist of things though.

 

  “So…” Minho pauses, fighting the urge to look out into the crowd again. “I’ll forget all of this as soon as I walk out?”

 

  Chan hums noncommittally.

 

  Minho wonders if that’s another question he doesn’t know the answer to. It seems like there’s a slowly growing list of those. God, why did Minho decide to go out tonight?

 

  “Hey, by the way… I’m sorry about that night, trying to attack you. If I wasn’t such a shit vampire it would have been proper, and you would have been completely immobilized—”

 

  “Wow _thanks_.” Minho rolls his eyes.

 

  “—I would have hurt you if I tried to feed on you like that, and that would have been awful.”

 

  Chan looks—surprisingly—earnest as he speaks. It confuses Minho.

 

  “Why does it matter if I was hurt or not?”

 

  “Why?” Chan looks uncertain for a moment. “It’s a part of my nature now, but that doesn’t mean I have to be evil with it. If I can make it painless for you, shouldn’t I?”

 

  “Jeez, you really are the worst vampire I’ve ever met.” Minho laughs, but feels a strange warmth fill his chest at Chan’s words. He feels more confident now that the man won’t hurt him, at least not intentionally.

 

  “Hey.” Chan makes a face that’s a cross between a pout and a scowl, and Minho finds himself laughing even harder at the sight.

 

  “Next thing you know you’ll be telling me you don’t even drink blood.”

 

  “I literally tried to feed off you.”

 

  “Keyword, tried.” Minho says with a smug tone.

 

  “Hmph. I do drink blood, for your information,” Chan sneers, but there’s no malice behind it. “I mean sure it’s kind of sour—”

 

  “You are the worst vampire ever, oh my god!”

 

  “Do you even know another vampire?”

 

  “Nope!”

 

  Chan tries to say something else, but Minho is so caught up in his laughter that he can’t hear it, his stomach aching as he clutches it and lets out all of his giggles. Tears prickle at his eyes when he sees Chan pouting, arms crossed over his chest in a dejected stance.

 

  “ _Bang Chan_ , what have we got here?”

 

  Minho’s body freezes before he even hears the person speak, his muscles freezing up by an invisible force of nature. His smile disappears, and he finds that he’s only able to move his eyes. He looks for the origin of the voice, a shudder running through him when he makes eye contact with blood red eyes and a gorgeous face.

 

  A group of three vampires are standing in front of the booth, each one with perfectly styled hair and faces that rival Hyunjin's own. Even if Minho could move, they’re blocking the only way out

 

  “Johnny.” Chan mutters, and from the corner of his eye Minho is pretty sure he sees Chan ducking his head in—Is that submission?

 

  “Funny, we thought you were leaving town.” The vampire, Johnny, says in an amused tone that falls just flat enough that Minho can tell the conversation isn’t that funny to anyone involved. Johnny continues to speak though, unrelenting in whatever control he is enforcing over Minho. It seems to be growing stronger if anything.

 

  “Unless your coven decided their little fledgling is strong enough to go hunting on his own?”

 

  “You’ve got a good eye Channie, but do you have good taste?”

 

  Minho would have flinched if he could, because all the sudden there was a body right next to him that hadn’t been a second before. If he strains his eyes he can see blood red orbs staring into his own, a face that looks like it was sculpted out of marble. The second vampire doesn’t seem to be breathing, or else Minho would feel it on his cheek.

 

  A low pitched growling reaches Minho’s ears from his right. He feels the cushion to the booth shift under Chan’s weigh as he leans towards the other vampire on Minho’s left, eyes a deep maroon color. The sound comes from deep in the vampire's throat, a sound that sends Minho's nerves into overdrive as his body tries to fight against what is holding him still. He can see the veins bulge in his hand as he tries to move it.

 

  “Back off _Nakamoto_. I claim him.” Chan’s tone is dark, sounding borderline pissed off, and for the first time since properly meeting him, Minho is intimidated.

 

   _If you stay by me, no one will go after you_. That’s what Chan said earlier, hadn’t he? Minho hopes to everything good in the world that he wasn’t bluffing. Chan’s hand is resting on his knee, a gentle but firm weight that manages to calm Minho’s racing heartbeat some.

 

  Minho hopes it's a 'I've got you' touch, and not a 'you're about to die, my condolences'.

 

  There’s a long silence, Minho’s breath caught in his throat as he waits for the stand off to end. Neither vampire looks partial to backing down. Chan continues to show outward signs of aggression with his bared teeth and the growing volume of the dark rumbling that comes from his throat. Nakamoto makes no move on his own, but the feeling of a cold exhale on Minho's skin is enough for him to squeeze his eyes shut in fear.

 

  A shift in the air and the second vampire is in his place behind Johnny’s right shoulder again when Minho opens his eyes, finding his limbs free.

 

  Minho's hand goes straight for Chan’s where he's squeezing his knee. There’s a slight jerk as Chan moves to take his hand away, but Minho grabs onto it and squeezes until his own knuckles are sure to be white.

 

  “Have a nice night, Bang. Tell Bambam I said hello next time you see him.”

 

  Johnny’s voice is lighter now, and when Minho makes eye contact on accident he sees warm brown instead of the terrifying red from earlier. Johnny even winks at him, eyes flashing red once more, prompting another low growl from Chan to warn them along.

 

  Then the three vampires are gone.

 

  “Are you okay?” Chan asks quickly, hand still held captive by Minho’s smaller one. The force of Minho’s grip doesn’t seem to cause him any pain though.

 

  “Yeah. I’d like to go home now. Please.” Minho feels like he went on the awful ride at the fair Hyunjin always forced him onto, the one that lifts you up slowly only to drop you at random. Minho hates that ride.

 

  “Oh shit, yeah of course. Um, here.”

 

  Minho latches himself to Chan’s side, taking a fist full of the loose fabric of Chan’s shirt. He doesn’t say anything when Chan wraps his arm around his waist, Minho feels safer with him like that anyways. The cold from Chan's body far more preferable to the sticky humidity of the club.

 

  They reach the front with little trouble, but then Minho catches sight of the security guard by the door.

 

  “Chan—.” Minho says, eyeing the bodyguard as they grow closer. He doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want to forget tonight. Even though he could probably sleep easier, he just doesn’t think it would be possible for him to go on and not remember Johnny’s eyes keeping him in place, Chan’s growling in his ear. Even the terror that came with all of it.

 

  Chan gives Minho’s hip a gentle and reassuring squeeze where his hand rests, acknowledging Minho’s statement.

 

  “Hey Wonho, special circumstance.”

 

  The bodyguard looks down at them, squinting at Chan then Minho. The man has a face similar but completely different to Chan's. Similar in the way that they both hold a certain kind of sweetness behind the more harsh physical qualities. Minho thinks it's in their eyes. Wonho's are almost hidden by a blue fringe that turns to blonde the closer to his scalp it gets.

 

  “I never pegged you for that type of blood sucker Channie.”

 

  “I swear I’m being serious Won.” Chan’s voice takes a pleading edge to it.

 

  “This better not be bullshit or I’m gonna get fired.” Wonho grumbles, reaching out and pressing his palm to Minho’s forehead, which is probably sweaty as fuck.

 

 There’s a moment where Minho feels a heaviness in his mind, and then a flash of images passes through his mind. Memories of Hyunjin, the day they met to the day Hyunjin told him who he really was. On instinct Minho starts building walls up, protesting against whatever is in his head.

 

  “Sorry ‘bout that, have to see what you already knew.” Wonho clears his throat, the images ceasing as soon as he removes his hand from Minho’s head to wave them along. “He’s in the clear. Don’t let anyone know though, he shouldn't have been let in in the first place.”

 

  “Thanks mate. Don't worry, it was a one time thing.”

 

  The night air feels like ice on Minho’s sweat laden skin. If he didn’t know any better he would think he was drunk off his ass with how bad his head is throbbing, every muscle in his body is sore in some way or another. He doesn’t even feel bad when he leans into Chan.

 

  “Worst fucking night out, ever.” Minho mutters, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead and taking a deep breath. “Does my ass look good still?”

 

  Chan sputters beside him and Minho nods gravely with a sigh. “I’ll take that as acceptable.”

 

  “Is this your way of freaking out or something?” Chan asks, no sign of effort in his voice even when Minho is using him as a vampire crutch. “I was expecting a bit more screaming.”

 

  “Nah, I only scream in bed. _Yes_ this is my way of freaking out.”

 

_“Jesus Christ.”_

 

  “Shouldn’t you not be able to say that?” Minho asks, wondering if Chan would give him a piggyback if he asked politely. His legs feel like he’s walking through half dried glue.

 

  “You know a lot of the vampire stereotypes were created by vampires themselves so we could hide better.” Chan chuckles, adjusting his grip on Minho. “Hey, wanna climb on my back? This’ll be a lot quicker.”

 

  “You read my goddamn mind.” Minho groans, noticing how Chan’s smile brightens.

 

  The vampire lifts Minho with ease, barely making Minho jump to get on. What a blessing.

 

  “Hey… You can’t like, actually read my mind can you?”

 

  Chan clasps his hands together under Minho's thighs to lock him in safely while he walks. Minho drapes his arms around Chan’s shoulders and tries not to notice how Chan smells like clean laundry and something else that tickles Minho nose, in a good way though. Minho isn't sure what he was expecting—no that's a lie. He was expecting mold and dust and dead stuff. Needless to say he's pleasantly surprised.

 

  “I don’t think so,” Chan says, his pace much faster now that he's not dragging half of Minho's dead weight. Minho knows it’s probably super strength or some shit like that, but man if it isn’t an ego boost to be lifted so easily.

 

  “How do you not know?” Minho asks, cheek squished against his shoulder as he forces a yawn from surfacing.

 

  He tightens his thighs around Chan’s hips when the vampire jogs across a busy street, surprised with how smooth Chan keeps his strides even in the rush of the city going on around them.

 

  “I’m kind of new to all this. You heard Johnny, you know, when he called me a fledgling.”

 

  “Yeah, I have absolutely no clue what that means.”

 

  Chan sighs—strange for someone who doesn't seem to have the need to breathe—but doesn’t sound too annoyed as he explains dutifully. “Well, vampires go through a trial period so to speak. I guess that’s how I would explain it. It’s like, being taught how to use all your powers, control your hunger, how to blend in. They’re usually referred to as fledglings by the older generations, like Johnny.”

 

  “Yeah, well Johnny seems like an asshole.”

 

  Minho doesn’t know why he says it. There’s just something about the way Johnny was clearly egging Chan on tonight that didn’t sit right with him now that he wasn’t frozen in terror. Sure, Chan seems like a pretty shit vampire, but if he’s still learning then surely there’s no reason for someone like Johnny—whoever he actually is—to go after Chan like that.

 

  Chan snorts, adjusting his grip on Minho. “He’s usually not like that.”

 

  “Wait—You _know,_ know him?” Minho turns his head to look down at Chan, surprised.

 

  “It’s hard not to. He co leads one of the largest covens in the world right now. It’s a big thing in the vampyre community right now. Plus, I’m kind of pen pals with his boyfriend.”

 

  “That prick has a boyfriend? Oh of course he does.” Minho huffs, lower lip sticking out in what could only be described as a 'deep jealousy pout'.

 

  “He’s actually not too bad when you get to know him.” Chan hums thoughtfully, and Minho notices that Chan is starting to slow in pace. They’re only a block or two away from Minho’s apartment complex.

 

  “Wow, you got here fast. How'd you find it?”

 

  “Oh, um…” Chan looks bashful when he sets Minho down, hand on Minho’s elbow until he’s sure he won’t fall. “I’ve been coming around to apologize. I kept chickening out though, and your friend put a powerful barrier around the building so I can't even get that close.”

 

  Minho’s eyebrows knit together and he turns around to look down the dark street, like if he looked hard enough he would be able to see whatever barrier Chan was talking about. They keep walking, but Chan seems wary of reaching the barrier. Minho wonders where it starts, he’ll have to talk to Hyunjin about it the next time he sees him.

 

  “It’s powerful magic.” Chan says, almost to himself, and Minho looks back to see Chan standing a few feet away with a pensive expression, almost nervous. It doesn’t look like he’s able to come any closer to Minho’s apartment than where his feet are rooted to the ground—right beside the street light that marks the beginning of the city’s 'Gas Light District'.

 

  Minho’s apartment is only three buildings further down the road.

 

  The vampire shakes his head, as if to clear it before he smiles at Minho. His fangs don’t look so scary with a pair of dimples flanking them, they’re not even that sharp at first glance. 

 

  “You should go home though, you’re safer on your side of the barrier.” Chan waves him along, putting his hands into his pockets.

 

  Minho crosses his arms over his chest, eyeing Chan for a minute. Maybe for a bit too long, as Chan begins to squirm under his gaze. Who would’ve thought, Lee Minho making an immortal being that could kill him with a flick of his wrist squirm.

 

  “Take me out to dinner, as an apology.” Minho says, hip popped out as he flicks a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. Hyunjin always says he looks scary when he stands like this. “When are you free?”

 

  Chan looks shocked, unable to do anything but open and close his mouth, until he finally chokes out, “Th—Thursday? I mean, I’m free Thursday.”

 

  Minho’s expression brightens. He can’t believe that actually worked, he was expecting some kind of fight.

 

  “Meet me right here at four.” Minho says with a sense of finality in his tone, making sure Chan heard him before he turns and walks the rest of the way to his house.

 

  He glances over his shoulder as he pulls out his keys, and finds that Chan hasn’t moved from where he stood before. He’s almost like a statue, standing guard. Minho hadn’t noticed his heart rate speeding up as he walked through the dark alone for the first time that night, but he feels a rush of calm come over him when he sees Chan watching over him. His hands thankfully aren't trembling too badly when he fits the key in.

 

 When Minho steps inside and closes the door behind him, he looks out through the window to the street. Chan is gone.

 

  Minho trudges up the stairs, pulling his shirt out from where it was tucked into his jeans in the front. He can’t wait to just climb into bed, wake up in the morning to a whole day off work. Maybe he’ll pick out something to wear on Thursday.

 

  But first, sleep.

 

  “Lee Minho where the fuck have you been!” Hyunjin booms at him as soon as he opens the door to his apartment, hands on his hips as he takes in the sight of Minho—shadows under his eyes, slumped shoulders and covered in sweat.

 

  “And why the _fuck_ you smell like a goddamn vampire harem?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh,, didn't mean for this to be chaptered but i had loads of fun writing it so we're just gonna keep having fun with it
> 
> comments/kudos appreciated! I love hearing y'alls opinions <3


	2. shut up kim shrubbery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slow burn? I don't know her
> 
> i'm sorry for the whiplash that is this fic like i'm writing stupid jokes but at the same time trying to give it good plot sdhfjkd
> 
> also I was going to put dates for updates but like, that's too much commitment so just expect a chapter every 5-7 days per usual

  “God we are _burning_ these.” Hyunjin holds up Minho’s jeans, making a face of disgust and covering his nose. “I’ve washed them three times and all I can smell is vampyre.”

 

  Minho is on Hyunjin’s bed, one of Hyunjin’s fluffy pillows tucked under his chest so he can lay on his stomach comfortably. Hyunjin hasn’t shut up about Minho fraternizing with vampires since Minho got home at about… Midnight, two days before.

 

  “Maybe if I use baking soda—”

 

  “Jinnie, love you babe but _please_ don't ruin those jeans?” Minho says in the sweetest voice he can manage, knowing that if Hyunjin had his way everything Minho had worn to the club would be in another plane of existence right now.

 

  Hyunjin continues to mutter under his breath, while Minho’s pants lay forgotten in a pile on the ground.

 

  “I’m gonna need a goddamn bubble bath, immortality was so much easier when you didn’t know about any of this shit. I feel like an unpaid babysitter.”

 

  Minho makes a face, eyebrows knit together and lips turned down in an offended pout. “Okay, rude.”

 

  Hyunjin shoots him a look, opening his closet with a flourish and humming as he rifles through his clothes. Minho rolls his eyes and pulls Hyunjin’s fluffy duvet over his legs.

 

  “Dude, I know this is your room and all but did you really need to build a… _shrine_ for yourself?” Minho asks, leaning against his hand and squishing his cheek as he stares at the fountain in the corner of the room. It’s covered in little notes in Hyunjin’s neat handwriting surrounding a Polaroid picture of Hyunjin that Minho is pretty sure he took. Stuff like, _You’re doing great! You’re beautiful,_ and _Feed Your Fish._

 

“Excuse you, it’s a temple. And if no one was going to make one for me I said ‘fuck it’ and made one myself.”

 

  “You know, I thought you were lying about being a Greek god, but honestly your whining has really convinced me—” Minho shrieks mid sentence when Hyunjin flicks his wrist and a pillow flies through the air at Minho’s head.

 

  “Mortals.” Hyunjin scoffs, switching his collared Polo for an old sweater, “I’m serious Minho when I say to stay away from vampyres. They’re no good.”

 

  “Yeah, well maybe this one is okay.”

 

  “Trust me, a lone vampyre is as dangerous as they come.” Hyunjin presses his lips together in distaste, flopping down onto the mattress next to Minho. “They’re predators Minho. All they do is hurt people, you can’t trust anyone who chooses to become a monster like that.”

 

  “You say that as if you have experience with them.”

 

  Hyunjin doesn’t look at him, eyes far away and distant. It’s not the first time he’s gotten like this with Minho, who doesn’t think Hyunjin is even aware when it happens. It is the first time however that Minho starts to wonder what Hyunjin is thinking of in all his years of being alive. He knows now that the sadness and tired gleam in Hyunjin eyes isn’t from lack of sleep now, but from more than a millennia of watching the world grow old while Hyunjin himself barely aged a day.

 

  The soft lighting of Hyunjin’s lamp outlines his face in a gentle orange glow as he removes his earrings.

 

  “Just trust me on this Minho. There are much better creatures you can be friends with.”

 

  Minho presses his lips together, searching Hyunjin’s face for a crack or a seam in his smile. Nothing. He knows Hyunjin was thinking of something, but now isn’t the time to ask.

 

  “Is that why you put up the barrier?”

 

  Hyunjin lets out a long sigh, but there’s a gentle smile on his face. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well since the attack, I was going to tell you about it tomorrow over lunch actually.”

 

  It was true that Minho hadn’t been sleeping well. Less out of fear and more out of the nightmares that plagued him, but that was before he got to know Chan more. He had been afraid Chan would come back for him because he knew now, because he hadn’t finished the job. Running into the fledgling at the club had eased his fears though. He still had nightmares of faceless monsters, blood red eyes and teeth that flashed in the shadows, but now he more often than naught found them being chased away even before they had really begun. The ghost of a cold hand in Minho’s own, and a voice in his ear.

 

   _Don’t worry, if you stay by me no one will go after you._

 

“I just want to keep you safe, and show you my world isn’t a scary place.” Hyunjin says, his smile growing. “Besides, Jisung was happy to help me out, he loves mortals.”

 

  “Your horse friend?”

 

  “Basically.” Hyunjin giggles. “Are you staying the night? If not I can zap you to your place, makes things so much faster.”

 

  Minho hums thoughtfully, and then contemplates his place in the world right now, wrapped up in Hyunjin’s fluffy duvet and his pillows that are almost as big as Minho himself.

 

  “I think I’ll crash here.”

 

  “Freeloader.”

 

  “Shut the fuck up, Tinkerbell.”

  
  
  
  


  When Hyunjin said Jisung loves meeting mortals, Minho didn’t think he was using the phrase as secret code for Jisung was absolutely fascinated by mortals and would not let Minho out of his sight, intent on watching everything Minho did. Hyunjin even had to stop Jisung from following Minho to the bathroom at one point.

 

  “Don’t you use the bathroom?” Minho asks when he gets back, making a face when Jisung shrugs.

 

  “I guess so, I don’t come into the city often.”

 

  Jisung is an extremely attractive man—unicorn, whatever. His face holds an intrinsic innocence to it, most of his charms centered in his slightly chubby cheeks, framed by pale blondish pink curls that create a heart on his forehead, right around the strange marking where his horn sits when in his true form. Minho knows because he watched that shit retract when Jisung came trotting up to them and turned into a regular college student—minus the ethereal beauty and perfect skin.

 

  That didn’t change the fact that Jisung is fucking annoying though.

 

  Okay maybe annoying is a strong word, but Jisung is almost _grossly_ interested in humans, and has absolutely no concept of personal space at all. Minho doesn’t either, but at least he has limits.

 

  “You really put gelatin into your hair?” Jisung tries to touch Minho’s locks for the fifteenth time that day.

 

  Minho even caught him trying to snip a strand off at one point.

 

  “It’s not gelatin it’s gel, and it keeps my hair from getting frizzy.” Minho says when he slaps Jisung’s hand away. Nothing seems to deter the unicorn for long though, because Minho can feel Jisung in his space just a few minutes later.

 

  Hyunjin thought that Minho going on a picnic with all of his friends would be a good idea. He says it’s to let Minho in on more of his life, but Minho also can tell it’s Hyunjin trying to distract him from thinking about his ‘vampyre friend’ as Hyunjin likes to refer to Chan as.

 

  Minho knows it will make Hyunjin feel better, so he tries to play along best he can. Hyunjin’s friends are actually pretty interesting.

 

  Jisung is a unicorn, which Hyunjin explained is actually just another subspecies of Fae folk that was rewritten in human history as their own species.

 

  Humans seem to do that a lot, Minho learns.

 

  Jeongin is downright adorable with his round eyes and craters for dimples. Even when Hyunjin says it’s so you don’t expect him to drag you to the bottom of a lake and kill you Minho can’t help but want to coo and squish the young-but-immortal boys cheeks. Minho would ten out of ten take a bite out of Jeongin if he could.

 

  The boy is cute even as he whines about Hyunjin not helping him out for school—which is something immortal creatures like to do for fun according to Hyunjin.

 

  “It’s funny what mortals come up with.” Hyunjin says.

 

  “I got a B minus! You couldn’t have at least shot for an A?” Jeongin pouts around a mouthful of sandwich, because even immortality doesn’t breed good manners apparently.

 

  Hyunjin says it’s because Jeongin has about two centuries before he grows out of his teenage rebellion phase.

 

  “Don’t push your luck boy, I’m a goddamn deity.” Hyunjin gives Jeongin a pointed look. “If you wanted an A you should have talked to Rasputin instead of adding him to your collection of skulls.”

 

  Jeongin’s pout only grows, and Minho is only slightly disturbed by the insinuation that Jeongin has a trophy shelf of skulls from his victims.

 

  “It was one time!”

 

  “It’s always one time, you fucking drowned him!” Seungmin butts in, an amused smile on his face.

 

  “Oh shut up, Kim Shrubbery.”

 

  Speaking of Seungmin, he’s a tree. More specifically, the tree boy that Minho always sees walking around the park but is too nervous to wave or say hello to. That tree.

 

  Seungmin walked up to him at the beginning of the picnic and the first thing he said was,

 

  “Your Crasula Ovata wants to be moved to the other window, there’s too much sun in the corner. Also she thinks you should have more confidence in your singing.”

 

  Needless to say Minho is feeling slightly out of his element.

 

  Seungmin doesn’t seem to be eating much, content to just bask in the sun with his face turned upwards, eyes closed. Minho isn’t sure if he’s brave enough to ask Seungmin if he eats mortal food or if he literally just needs sunlight. At this point Minho doesn’t know which one would surprise him more.

 

  Woojin is the most normal out of all of them, and Minho is grateful for it. Even if Woojin turns into a crazy monster once a month—or something like that. Hyunjin explained it to him almost as if Woojin were a werewolf, except he really wasn’t. Minho wasn’t really able to wrap his head around it.

 

  For the past twenty minutes since Hyunjin introduced Minho to everyone they’ve all been chatting, it’s almost normal. Until Minho sees a flash of Jeongin’s needle like teeth disguised as human ones, and Woojin announces there’s cotton candy being sold on the other end of the park and he knows because he ‘can smell it’.

 

  The least distressing thing is how little flowers poke out of the ground where Seungmin’s hand touch the soil, wrapping around his fingers and blooming when he gives them attention.

 

  “They’re like his own personal court, they see it as an honor to be around him.” Woojin explains when he sees Minho staring.

 

  “So what, he’s like a celebrity?” Minho asks, watching in awe as Seungmin plucks a bud out from the ground, but the plants roots follow it so it doesn’t die. Seungmin places the flower in the hair above his ear, and Minho notices for the first time that Seungmin has flowers all hidden throughout his hair, all alive.

 

  “Well, creatures like Hyunjin and Seungmin especially have certain… Auras that surround them.” Woojin says after a moment of thought. “Seungmin attracts nature—to put it in the most simple terms I can think of. Hyunjin attracts energy, the kind that resides in living creatures. Jisung is the same, but with a less concentrated power.”

 

  “I don’t get it.”

 

  “Me either sometimes, it gets easier with age.” Jeongin butts in, another one of the moments where he reveals how old he really is behind his adorable smile and dimples.

 

  “Minho doesn’t need to know about all that stuff, it’s bad enough he knows about you guys at all.” Hyunjin says finally, his expression unusually tense as he picks at his sandwich.

 

  “Jin,” Minho says, knowing that his warning tone has little effect on Hyunjin.

 

  There’s a tense air that settles over the picnic, and even Seungmin’s flowers shrink away. It takes a moment for Minho to realize the feeling is coming from Hyunjin himself. The boy radiating a cold warning, telling Minho to stop where he stands.

 

  “Quit your hormones, you’re getting in the way of my photosynthesis.”

 

  The weight retracts itself as soon as Seungmin speaks up, a displeased frown on his face as he looks between Hyunjin and Minho.

 

  “You said you wanted to keep him from knowing the truth, now he knows. So stop your bitching. This is Minho, not Him.” Seungmin says to Hyunjin, and then turns to Minho. “And you, stop talking with creatures who actively try to hurt you. Hyunjin’s stress damages the tree roots.”

 

  Seungmin stares at him for a long time, and Minho finds himself unable to look away—until a loud slurping sound breaks through the silence. They all turn to see Jisung watching them with wide eyes, the straw of his now-empty juice box hanging off his lip.

 

  “Sorry?”

  
  
  
  


  Ever since the picnic Hyunjin and Minho have been awkward around one another. Hyunjin needs his time to realize that even if Minho is mortal he is not automatically weak and incapable of taking care of himself, and Minho wants to know more about this world. It’s hard though, because no matter how much Minho wants Hyunjin to stop treating him like a weak child, he also knows that he’s no match for what could be looking to make him into their next meal.

 

  So he counts down the days until he told Chan to meet him.

 

  The week couldn’t pass any slower.

 

  The night before Minho can barely sleep, not that insomnia is a new thing for him. Ever since Chan attacked him he’s had nightmares, though over the past few days they’ve grown progressively worse. Minho has lost count of how many times he’s woken up with a hoarse shout, hand on his throat to make sure it hasn’t been ripped open.

 

  He spends the morning with a steaming mug of tea in hand as he thinks of what to wear.

 

  What do you wear to impress the cute vampire who tried and failed to bite you?

 

  Ideally, he would wear his good jeans again because, come on, his ass looks damn fine in them. But even if it’s been a week since he wore them last he doesn’t really want Chan to see him in them again, god forbid he thinks Minho doesn’t own more than one pair of pants.

 

  Minho nearly tears up his closet finding an outfit.

 

  It’s nothing special really, it’s actually kind of plain. One of Minho’s favorite sweaters, a dark maroon with small white stripes going across it, and a pair of cuffed jeans to go with it. Minho had contemplated dressing up more, but something told him it would be more fun to get Chan flustered in other ways.

 

  Minho slips his old chucks on, tapping the toes of the shoes together once he has them on, for luck.

 

  He makes it as far as the lamppost when he begins to get antsy. He hasn’t really left the safety of Hyunjin’s barrier all week, he’s either been with his friend or stayed within the neighborhood, because Hyunjin tethered the magic for the spell to the street lights of the Gas Light District. It’s weaker during the day because of it, but Hyunjin assured him that even then it would be extremely hard to break through.

 

  He waits a few feet shy of the barrier’s edge, his eyes trained on the ground as he becomes lost in his own thoughts.

 

  Ten minutes later and he’s beginning to worry. Was Chan not going to show? Chan had definitely heard him, and he would have said if four didn’t work wouldn’t he?

 

  Oh shit.

 

  Minho realizes he’s staring at his shadow, and when he looks up, sure enough the sun is right there, waiting to blind him. He lets out a cry of pain when the harsh light hits his eyes, cursing himself twice for being so fucking stupid. Once for looking at the sun, and the second time because he was dumb enough to ask a fucking vampire to meet him out in broad daylight, honestly what the hell had he been thinking.

 

  “God fucking dammit,” Minho says as he rubs his eyes, and then screams again when a loud crash sounds next to him.

 

  He opens his eyes and squints as the spots fade away, looking around for the origin of the noise. It only takes him a moment to find the pile of overturned trash bins, and the jean clad leg that sticks up from the pile with a paper bag on the foot. Almost like a flag for the dumpsters.

 

  “Chan?” Minho gapes, and walks across the barrier to peer at the overturned vampire.

 

  “Right here.” Chan grumbles, sitting up and pressing a hand to his forehead.

 

  “What the fuck did you do?” Minho reaches down to help the vampire up, even though he’s pretty sure Chan is more dazed than actually injured.

 

  The vampire is dressed rather nice, in a collarless white button up underneath a nice bluish green corduroy jacket, and dark cut off jeans. It’s different from the dark outfit Chan had worn to the club, but with his slightly ruffled blonde hair the look fits him in a strange way.

 

  “I heard you yell,” Chan says sheepishly as he brushes an orange peel off his sleeve with a grimace. “I was worried you had been hurt so I ran over, but I forgot about the barrier so it, uh, _barriered_ me away.”

 

  Minho stares at Chan with his eyebrows raised, caught between finding the gesture incredibly sweet and incredibly entertaining.

 

  He reaches up and picks a wrapper off of Chan’s shoulder, unable to hide the fond smile that appears.

 

  “Well, I’m fine—” Minho suddenly remembers why he had looked at the sun in the first place, and gasps, shoving Chan in the chest as hard as he can so they’re further in the shadows. “The sun!”

 

  The push doesn’t do much to Chan, who is as solid as a brick wall against Minho’s efforts.

 

  “What about it?”

 

  Chan tilts his head up, looking up at the sky, which has a few fluffy white clouds floating around.

 

  “Doesn’t it—Won’t it hurt you?” Minho stops, hands still pressed against Chan’s chest, where he had been trying—and failing—to push the vampire.

 

  “If it does then this was a very bad idea.” Chan smiles, his dimples poking out suddenly. “It won’t hurt me Minho, don’t worry. I just shouldn’t stay out for long, I’ll get sick.”

 

  Minho presses his lips together. “So, you’re not going to burst into flames? Or a cloud of smoke?”

 

  Chan hums thoughtfully, as if he’s debating on his answer. “I’m going to have to say no to that.”

 

  “But, vampires…”

 

  “We’re nocturnal by nature, yes, but sun won’t kill us.” Chan removes Minho’s hands from his chest, his fingers cold but gentle against Minho’s own. “See?”

 

  The vampire walks right to the edge of the shadows and raises his hand into the light, his expression remaining the same when the brightness hits his pale skin, bleaching it of the little color it does hold. Minho would be lying if he said he didn't get a little tense at the sight, ready to drag Chan away as soon as a lick of smoke comes from his skin.

 

  Chan does _not_ burst into a ball of flames though, so that means their lunch dinner date can go as planned.

 

  “Do you like black bean noodles?”

 

  “I’m impartial to them.”

 

  “We’re going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” Minho says as he walks beside Chan, practically dragging Chan down the road by his wrist. The vampire keeps up well though, not that Minho expected otherwise.

 

  “Sorry, I’m just kinda used to convenience store food.” Chan says, a sheepish look on his face.

 

  Minho almost wishes Chan could blush properly, but Chan is expressive enough that it’s easy to tell when he’s feeling shy or embarrassed. Even when they’ve barely known each other two consecutive days.

 

  He’ll break into a sweet half smile, enough that Minho can see the edge of one of his fangs poking out. His eyebrows raise like he’s asking a question and if he’s feeling nervous he’ll pick at the nail of his thumb while glancing everywhere except the space that Minho occupies. It’s kind of adorable.

 

  Minho’s playful disdain for Chan’s—mortal—diet choices disappears when he sees Chan’s fang glint in the sunlight and a question pops up in his head.

 

  “Hey, can I ask you a question? About your things?”

 

  “My… things?” Chan looks confused, swerving around a woman with groceries and taking a few steps that are too big for him to not have used a little of his abilities.

 

  “Your fangs.”

 

  “Oh yeah, sure. I don’t mind questions.”

 

  Minho pulls Chan so he’s right next to him and links their arms as they walk, so he doesn’t almost murder another pedestrian.

 

  “So like, do your fangs work like straws?” Minho glances over at Chan to gauge his reaction.

 

  It’s a serious question of his! He wants to know if Chan has to suck the blood through his teeth or if they’re just his bodies natural pocket knife.

 

  “Oh, um.” Chan looks caught off guard, but Minho notices his strides have become smaller to match his own, less clumsy now that they’re closer. And in the unlikely event that Chan tripped and fell Minho would be dragged down with him no doubt. “To be honest? I’ve never really bitten anyone before? Like, not properly.”

 

  Why is Minho not surprised. He’s going out with someone who is probably the worst vampire the world has ever seen.

 

  “Oh my god.” Minho face palms, sliding his hand down to cover his mouth as he tries to hide his smile of disbelief. “No wonder I bit you and ran off, you’re like a virgin!”

 

  Chan chokes on air, sputtering and looking extremely frazzled as he avoids eye contact with Minho.

 

  “I—Hey I’m trying my best here! This vampire life isn’t exactly—Stop laughing!” Chan whines, glancing around at the people who have begun to stare at them. The oddly pale man with a giggling mess on his arm much more interesting than any of their afternoon plans. Not to mention they’re both extremely attractive, but that might just be Minho’s squished writing in the margins.

 

  “How are you even immortal? I swear I’m going to get a letter one day, I can see it now. Dear Lee Minho, we regret to inform you that the vampire Bang Chan has left this world on account of his utter incompetence to this world.”

 

  Minho speaks in his best commentator voice, the comically deep one that he can barely manage. It’s hard though, seeing as he keeps giggling through every word.

 

  “Why are you so mean,” Chan whines, but there’s an amused lilt to his voice. “I could snap you in half.”

 

  “That’s a no from me honey, you’re too cute to hurt anyone.”

 

  Minho knows that’s probably a lie, and if Chan wanted he could very well kill him, but something about that thought seems so wrong. How could the cute dorky guy beside him be a killing machine when he was the equivalent of a college student who is going through that quarter life crisis, when your body—in the middle of the switch between teenager and adult—can only cope by making you practically a child again. Just a tall, pale, man child with an affinity for iron in his diet.

 

  “Ah, here we go.” Minho slides his hand down into Chan's and tugs him away from the main sidewalk and down an alley, where a few tables under an awning sit abandoned. The door a pace or two beside them is open though, and the faint sound of clanging pots and pans and the warm chatter of a restaurant float out.

 

  “What is it?”

 

  “This is where I ate a lot a few years ago, very cozy. Kind of dark but I didn’t think you’d mind.”

 

  “I don’t.”

 

  Minho finds himself grinning easily. There was a part of him that was worried Chan wouldn’t be interested in eating at a hole in the wall restaurant, and then Minho wouldn’t know where to take them to eat. Besides, there was always enough noise that they could talk without worrying about someone listening in.

 

  “You come here often?” Chan asks as he sits down in the booth across from Minho, them choosing a table further away from the other patrons.

 

  “Is that a line?” Minho asks, and enjoys the way Chan sputters and almost knocks over the salt shaker.

 

  Cute.

 

  They make small talk until their food arrives, because there’s nothing like discussing the weather with the vampire sitting across from you over noodles.

 

  “We don’t speak of it.”

 

  “Yeah, but _why_?”

 

  “No one knows, we haven’t talked about it in so long no one remembers,” Chan says as he slurps up a mouthful of noodles. Very sexy, ten outta ten Minho would recommend.

 

  “Are you serious?” Minho stares at Chan in disbelief.

 

  “Oh I’m dead serious, I mean, what if we burst into flames?” The distressed look on Chan’s face is almost comical. “So it’s just a universal rule that vampire’s aren’t allowed in Cleveland.”

 

  “You’re so weird.” Minho mutters as he shoves noodles into his mouth, the slurping noise loud in his own ears.

 

  Past the sound of the restaurant Minho can hear Don’t Fear the Reaper playing through the old speakers that sit on the counter across the room, the static of the radio laced through the guitar riffs. It had always fascinated him how a place run by a relatively quiet old woman played so much rock music, not that he minded.

 

  “So like, how old are you?” Minho asks suddenly, looking Chan up and down.

 

  He had a running bet with himself that Chan was somewhere around one hundred years old, he seemed like someone who would have been born in the 1800s. It would at least explain why the man was so clumsy, maybe he wasn't used to this day and age yet.

 

  “Oh, I’m twenty three,” Chan says, picking through his food at a steady pace.

 

  “No, really.”

 

  Chan looks up at him, a confused light in his eyes. “No, really. I’m twenty three years old. Almost twenty four.”

 

  Minho is silent for a moment, eyebrows knit together. His expression of confusion almost mirrors Chan’s. “But you—”

 

  “I was turned when I was almost twenty one, I told you I’m a fledgling.”

 

  “Oh my god you’re basically a _baby_.” Minho hides his face with his hands, peeking through his fingers at Chan, who looks even more confused now, maybe even a little offended.

 

  “Hey! I’m literally older than you—”

 

  Even though the dinner was supposed to be Chan’s apology for trying to bite Minho, Minho refuses to let the vampire pay for his food.

 

  It’s dark by the time they walk out of the restaurant, and Minho notices that Chan seems much more confident now that the sun has set. He remembers Chan mentioning earlier that vampires are nocturnal by nature, which wasn’t exactly surprising, but Minho finds it interesting that he can tell Chan is in his element now. He stands taller, seems more sure of himself.

 

  “I asked my friend about the barrier, I don’t think he’ll take it down.”

 

  “Good.” Chan responds quickly, then seems to backtrack. “I mean, you’re safer behind it. That’s good. You should feel safe.”

 

  Minho glances over at Chan where he walks beside him, and sees that the vampire’s lips are pressed together and there’s a furrow in his brow. He looks guilty, eyes trained on the ground in front of him as he walks.

 

  “You don’t have to feel guilty.” Minho says, reaching out and placing his hand on Chan’s shoulder.

 

 Chan lets out a long sigh, but doesn’t move away from Minho’s touch, they’re close to the Gas Light District, but not too close.

 

  “You have shadows under your eyes, you’re not sleeping well. You haven’t since that night, I can _hear_ the exhaustion whenever you talk.”

 

  Minho opens his mouth to say something but decides against it. Chan isn’t wrong, Minho is utterly spent mentally. He knows he’s safe in his own home, Hyunjin had assured him of it, but Minho doesn’t like being alone in his own home anymore. He doesn’t mind that he met Chan, if anything meeting the clumsy vampire was almost worth the trouble it took for Minho to do so, but there’s a part of his head that won’t let him forget the fear that came over him at the club, the spell Johnny had placed on him.

 

  When Chan attacked him that night, it wasn’t fear that came over him, it was calmness.

 

  Minho doesn’t know what that means for him, but he does know he doesn’t blame Chan for his nightmares. Not anymore.

 

  Chan winces suddenly, and Minho looks up to see a pained expression on his face. They walked right into the barrier.

 

  “Shit, sorry.” Minho quickly steps back over the invisible line, tugging Chan further away from the lamppost that marks it. “It doesn’t hurt you too badly does it?”

 

  The pain in Chan’s expression disappeared as soon as they stepped away from the barrier, but he still looks cautious being so close to it. “No, it’s not really a physical thing. It’s like, when someone yells in your ear when you already have a headache. Like a really loud warning bell telling me to back off.”

 

  “I’m sorry,” Minho says. He doesn’t tell Chan, but he’ll definitely be talking to Hyunjin about taking the barrier down. He might be scared, but he’s not a damn kid. He already knew if he wanted Hyunjin to stop worrying about him he would need to show he could take care of himself.

 

  “Don’t worry about me, you should get inside and try to sleep.” Chan grins at him, dimples and fangs showing through his smile. The two are such a contrast to each other, but somehow Minho isn’t surprised. Chan’s fangs are too small to be scary to him now anyways.

 

  “Don’t be out all night, okay?” Minho says to Chan, a faux serious look on his face.

 

  “I _was_ just out all night, by vampire standards.”

 

  “Oh shut up you smart ass.” Minho swats at Chan’s shoulder.

 

  There’s a vague sense of deja vu to the situation, but Minho finds that saying goodbye to Chan is far more enjoyable when he isn’t in shock and hasn’t been mentally manhandled by a bunch of dusty fuckers who sleep in coffins.

 

  “Sleep well, Minho.” Chan waves him over the barrier again, though Minho won’t allow him to get so close this time.

 

  It’s the same as last week when Minho unlocks the front door to his apartment building. Chan stands by the lamppost keeping watch, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, but as soon as Minho closes the door behind him Chan is gone in the blink of an eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o yeah expect side ships besides minchan (try to guess who)  
> mayhaps there will be some little side stories posted in the near future
> 
> comments/kudos appreciated!!


	3. pop quizzes and peril

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS**  
> there's a little part in here that mentions thoughts of suicide  
> there's nothing explicit about it and this is literally going to be the only remotely serious chapter in the fic i promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise!
> 
> (sorry for the late chapter)

  “Tab?”

 

  “Got7.”

 

  “Cleared. Here ya go.”

 

  Chan takes the glass from the bartender, the warmth nearly searing against his already cold fingers. He doesn’t think he'll ever get used to stuff like this. 

 

  Bambam told him no one would give him trouble if he gave their tab, but there's still a strange feeling of unworthiness when he says the name of the coven he isn't really a part of. Not yet, at least. 

 

  The blood tastes sour when it hits his tongue, as anything that isn't fresh usually does. 

 

  He isn’t sure how he survives Minho. Being with him all afternoon the other day had left Chan starving, and he almost didn't make it through dinner. Not when Minho was sitting across from him looking good enough to eat and smelling even better. 

 

  Minho would be the death, er, well, second death of Chan. Along with smelling nothing short of divine, he was also unbearably pretty. With dark eyes and long eyelashes that Chan could count with his enhanced sight, not that he did. Because that would be creepy obviously. Minho was also snarky though, unafraid to make jokes at Chan or say what he thought. He was funny, and beautiful, and smelled so damn good.

 

  Chan never thought he had a type, but lots of things have changed for him since he became a vampyre.

 

  “Fuck,” Chan mutters as he stares into the bottom of the glass. 

 

  The burn of hunger becomes a dull scratch in the back of his throat as he swallows. 

 

  Chan had first gone after Minho on accident, not realizing the scent that had caught his attention was dragging him along by his newfound instincts. He had been trying to make his way to a bar to get rid of the hunger eating away at him. Then he caught sight of Minho, and it had been like tunnel vision for him as he tripped over a trash bin and nearly blown the element of surprise. Even though he knew he wasn't supposed to hunt on his own for at least two more years, Bambam hadn't been in town to accompany Chan to the bar.

 

  Minho wasn't wrong when he said Chan was really bad at being a vampire. 

 

  “Chan, I didn't expect you to be here.”

 

  A voice sounds from beside him, and Chan wishes that he could still jump when people snuck up on him. It would make him feel more human, even though he knows he’s not anymore. 

 

  “Hey Changbin, you're out early.” Chan says when he glances down at his watch and sees that it's only ten at night. 

 

  Changbin usually doesn't wake up until at least midnight. 

 

  Chan thought he was bad when he was nothing but a human college student, working three jobs until three in the morning just to make rent, and waking up for his first class at eight in the morning. Now, finishing college wasn’t something he needed to rush, so his schedule was considerably lightened. Changbin though? He spent most of his off nights and days awake. Even immortals need sleep sometime.

 

  “Yeah, I was up all day yesterday…” Changbin drags the bar stool closer to the counter and runs his fingers through his pitch black hair. “I keep getting close, but then… Nothing.”

 

  Chan doesn’t know too much about Changbin, even if he is still one of his closest friends in the community. The man didn’t like talking about himself, and Chan knew enough not to ask. Something bad had happened to Changbin when he was turned, almost three hundred years ago. There were still old wounds that had yet to heal for him, things that he mentioned in passing.

 

  There was someone Changbin was looking for, not that Chan knew who. It was someone who Changbin loved, there was nothing that could hide the hopeful heartbreak in the vampires face every time he mentioned his search.

 

  “I’m sure you’ll find him, “ Chan says once he knocks back the rest of his glass. 

 

  “Hm… So how’re you doing?”

 

  “I’m still living in the apartment,” Chan glances over at Changbin, running his finger along the rim of the glass carefully. He can feel the curious disapproval radiating off the older vampire.

 

  “Chan, I thought you said nothing was keeping you here?”

 

  “There isn’t—Wasn’t. I don’t know.” Chan runs his hand over his face, waving his hand to get the bartender's attention so he’ll fill up his cup again. “It’s been a long week, Bin.”

 

  Changbin rolls his eyes and turns his cup upside down so the bartender knows he’s finished. 

 

  “It’s gonna be a long life Chan, but only if you don’t be an idiot about it.”

 

  They don’t stay long after that, Changbin has to go to work, and Chan has to keep up with packing when he gets home later. Unless he wants Jaebum on his ass along with Bambam. That would be like having a giant doberman backing up the chihuahua at your heels. Chan shudders at the thought.

 

  “See you when I see you kid,” Changbin says when they walk out together, and Chan glares at the other vampire.

 

  “My body is older than yours idiot.”

 

  “Maturity over grey hairs my friend.” Changbin grins, adjusting the collar of his shirt before there's a rush of air and it’s just Chan on the curb. 

 

  Night life as a vampire is hard to explain. No, scratch that.  _ Life  _ as a vampire is hard to explain.

 

  Chan begins his walk, shrugging off the leather jacket and feeling the warm air on his skin. He knows to a mortal it’s probably freezing outside, but Bambam says that his internal temperature will be far lower than a normal humans. He didn’t realize how much until he noticed Minho shivering against him as he carried him home the first night they properly met. Minho didn’t even seem to notice it through the shock that Johnny had left him in.

 

  The jacket was one of the thickest articles of clothing Chan owned, and therefore the best thing he could think to wear if he didn’t want Minho catching hypothermia if he stood to close for too long.

 

  The truth is that Chan could totally just run and skip the trip through the shitty back alleys he used to be so terrified of. He likes the humanity of walking though. 

 

  There are certain things that Chan just can't seem to let go of, even though it's been almost three years since he was turned. Like Eggo’s in the morning even though he doesn't need to eat, coffee even though he never really feels tired in a human's sense of the world, walking places even though he could be there within seconds. Chan doesn't want it to end yet. 

 

  Someday he'll have to though, and it seems that the day is going to be sooner than later. 

 

  Chan narrowly dodges a car speeding down the road, a phantom pain running down his spine as the tires screech and an angry voice sounds from the open windows of the car as it turns the corner out of sight. If Chan was cynical as a human, he feels like it's only gotten worse since Bambam turned him into a vampire. 

 

  Memories of humanity are bitter in Chan’s mouth. 

 

  He had moved to Seoul in 1981 to study after his parents went through a rough break, one tragedy after the next until all that was left was Chan and his recently divorced parents. They were far too interested in making sure each other’s lives were awful to care about Chan. So he chose to get away, reinvent himself. Who knew that would mean becoming an immortal being. 

 

  College was rough for Chan, paying for all of it himself along with rent, food, and everything in between. Chan hated his life three years ago. More than anything in the world, he had just wanted things to end. There wasn’t enough time for him to really think about that either though.

 

  Then he met Bambam. 

 

  Bambam at first had freaked Chan out. The boy was extremely loud, and wore designer clothes even though he was attending a shitty community college. He was unlike anyone Chan had ever known in his life, because even though he was loud and unapologetic in the way he held himself, he was the only one to see Chan for who he really was. 

 

  He could see the sadness in Chan’s eyes, the weight of the world on his shoulders far too early in his life. 

 

  Chan doesn’t remember making friends with Bambam, he just knows it happened sometime during their second year in college. Chan was slowly losing what little motivation he had in life, having been laid off a few months prior and slowly drowning in bills. He couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, and he was sure there would be nothing waiting for him at the end anyways. 

 

  The day Chan had enough, Bambam showed up at the door of his apartment as if he  _ knew  _ what was knocking around Chan’s head. 

 

  Chan had been inclined to ignore his friend, to make the goodbye less painful for Bambam. Because even if Chan had tried to convince himself no one would miss him, he knew that Bambam would. He’s still not sure why he pressed the buzzer to let Bambam up.

 

  “I know what you’re planning,” Bambam said as soon as Chan opened his front door, a steely look on his face as he looked at Chan’s disheveled state. “I know why. I want you to know that I can help you, that I won’t leave you alone.”

 

  Bambam told him everything, and Chan couldn’t believe it, but at the same time, he could. There was just something about Bambam and his dorm mates that had always rubbed Chan the wrong way.

 

  They were all vampires.

 

  It had surprised Chan when Bambam left so suddenly, even though he said he knew what Chan had been planning. The vampire allowed his proposition to sink in for Chan, and made Chan promise to eat something soon, but that was it.

 

_  “Just think about it.”  _

 

  Then Chan was alone once again, staring down the suddenly empty hallway and feeling strangely comforted.

 

  He stayed in his apartment for a week, his darkest hour, just thinking. How was he supposed to say yes to eternal life when a few nights before he had been ready for his own to end? Over the course of a few days though, he started to realize that it wasn’t the concept of forever that Bambam had offered him, not really. Bambam was offering him a place to call his own, a family. And Chan found that somewhere he belonged was all he really wanted. It was the dark ugly thing in his chest that refused to let go of him, Loneliness. 

 

  Chan walked to the school campus, and found Bambam so easily he knew the vampire was waiting for him.

 

  “You promise that I won’t be left alone?” Chan asked when they made eye contact, hands clenched into fists by his sides. 

 

  “I promise.”

 

  And that was it.

 

  Okay so not really. 

 

  It really would be easier to rob the queen than get anything done in the world of Vampyres. It took a month to get a hearing with the council to ask for permission to put Chan through the change, and yet another week for the council to make their decision on the matter. Clearly, they made their decision. After that it was a smooth ride, though Chan had to go through certain trials. 

 

 He was required to stay with his coven for a minimum of a decade, and was not allowed to hunt on his own until his Sire thought he was ready to do so. Wherever they went, he went. Or else the council had full authority to destroy him. Not kill,  _ destroy _ .

 

  Bambam was ecstatic of course, and took it upon himself to teach Chan everything he needed to know. Chan was, obviously, expecting some boring classes. Maybe some shadowing of Bambam on hunts. Nope. 

 

 The night after Chan went through the change—a long ugly process that Chan doesn’t remember too clearly if he’s being honest—he was awoken by a loud crash and the sight of Bambam standing in the middle of Chan’s studio apartment, blowing a whistle as loud as he could and dragging Chan out of bed.

 

  “Get up Baby Fangs, we got work to do!  _ Pop quizzes and peril _ , that’s our motto in this funeral home!”

 

  Pop quizzes and peril was a good way to describe it.

 

 Bambam would show up at odd times of the night and day, popping up out of nowhere to scream odd questions at Chan or throw things at him to check his reflexes. If Chan was still alive in the technical sense, he probably would have died of a heart attack anyways, especially when Bambam decided to throw the shell of a taxi cab at Chan one day.

 

  There were also the scavenger hunts, which were really just Bambam's clever way of getting Chan to buy him cheesecake. Because for some reason—one that no one would speak of within the coven—Bambam had been banned from having more than a certain amount in a year.

  
  
  
  


  “Hey!” 

 

  A familiar voice pulls Chan out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see Minho grinning at him from across the street, one hand waving through the air while the other is deep in the pockets of his denim jacket. Minho’s hair is fluffy, and Chan finds himself smiling when Minho tucks a longer strand behind his ear with delicate fingers.

 

  Everything about Minho seems delicate to Chan.

 

  Minho jogs across the road, and Chan feels his cold dead heart swell when Minho loops his arm around Chan’s and pulls him close. There’s no hesitation in Minho’s movements, even though Chan is practically a wall of ice compared to Minho’s soft skin. 

 

  “You look good.” 

 

  Minho grins and looks down at himself, smoothing down the worn band shirt that’s tucked into— 

 

  Chan catches sight of  _ The Jeans _ . The ones Minho wore on the first night they met. Chan specifically remembers his thoughts when he saw a fiery Minho stalking up to him with those damned jeans hugging every curve of his hips and thighs.

 

_ Ah, so this is what it’s like to die again. _

 

__ “I wanted to look good for you.” Minho says bluntly, and when Chan’s head snaps over to look at the human, Minho fucking… winks.

 

  Chan lets out a small squeak and stares ahead of himself, trying not to get all nervous and stiff like he always seems to around Minho, because Minho still has his arm linked with Chan’s, and he’s pretty sure he’ll accidentally snap Minho’s elbow if he isn’t careful.

 

  “Oh,” Is all Chan manages to say, and he can hear Minho’s giggling, and knows the shit eating grin he has on his face. 

 

  Chan can only thank everything good in the world that he’s not human anymore, because there’s no way he would survive the whirlwind that is Lee fucking Minho if he was.

 

  They’ve known each other properly for almost a month now, and there’s still that small voice in the back of Chan’s head that tells him to stop going out with Minho, to turn away and not look back, because there’s no way he can bring anything good into Minho’s life. Not with what he is. But then Minho looks at him with pretty brown eyes and the sweetest smile, and Chan feels that Ugly Thing in his chest recoil from the warmth Minho brings to him.

 

  “Come on, you promised me we would go clubbing!”

 

  Ah fuck. 

 

  “Are you sure, Minho?” Chan grimaces when Minho drags him forwards. “Last time was…”

 

  “I was a little bitch back then, I wanna bitch slap Johnny still for what he did to me.”

 

  “Oh god.” Chan sighs, running a hand over his face and peeking through his fingers when he feels Minho tug at his arm. Of course Minho is pouting at him, a little shimmer on his cheekbones from some kind of makeup. 

 

  “Fine, but you have to—” Chan isn’t expecting Minho to start dragging him down the road, so he stumbles forward. “Stay by me!”

 

  Chan wishes he had more resolve when it came to Minho.

 

  They go to a different bar than the one they met at, because Chan doesn’t think he could deal with Wonho’s disapproving look if he caught him walking in with the same human as last time. This one is at least more lenient with stuff like that, and Chan chose it because he’s far more friendly with the vampires here. 

 

  It would be a lot easier to keep Minho safe if he would stay by Chan though. 

 

  On one hand Chan is happy that Minho has gotten over his fear, and he knows that Minho never strays too far, he just worries. Especially when Minho is out on the dance floor looking like a fucking meal.

 

  Sweet Dreams plays over the speakers, and Chan’s watches with almost morbid fascination as Minho sways to the bass line, watching the human run his fingers through his hair and grin when another human girl slides up to him and they dance together. Chan can’t take his eyes off of Minho, the way the lights dance across Minho’s skin, highlighting the dark shadow of makeup around his eyes and the glitter on his collarbones where his shirt slides down.

 

  Minho makes eye contact with him, something Chan has really been trying to avoid. He had hoped that the two drinks he had earlier in the night would hold the hunger off, but anything less than fresh is nothing compared to the hunger that has taken root in Chan. 

 

  Minho curls a finger in Chan’s direction, the corner of his lips quirking up as he mouths the lyrics.

 

_   “Some of them want to get used by you,” _

 

__ Chan needs a drink, and fast.

 

  He nearly trips over another vampire on his way to the bar, keeping an eye on Minho as he picks his way through the crowd to the bar. Minho is dancing with another human this time, and Chan ignores the faint frown he sees on Minho’s face when the human notices Chan has disappeared from the booth he had set up camp in when Minho said he wanted to dance.

 

_   “Won’t you come with me?” _

 

_   “I can’t dance.” _

__  
_  
_ _   “But  _ I  __ can,”

__  
_  
_ __   “Maybe in a minute.”

__  
  
  Chan knocks back two shots of the freshest blood the bar has in stock, hoping that Jaebum won’t kill him for the bill it’ll rack up. Chan needs them if he’s going to survive tonight.

 

  He’s just finishing the second glass when a familiar voice surfaces through the crowd, and he turns to search for Minho on the dance floor. Anxiety prickles at the back of Chan’s neck when he sees the girl Minho was dancing with, but no Minho. 

 

_   “Oh come on baby, you don’t want a fledgeling. Have some fun with someone who knows what they’re doing.” _ A smooth voice speaks up, and Chan finally finds Minho standing across the bar, flanked by two female vampires. Two vampyres that Chan knows very well, because of course he has to know every single vamp that wants to go after Minho.

 

  Chan is just reaching them when he sees Minho standing with his hands on his hips, leaning towards the two vampyres as if he’s reprimanding them. 

 

  “Excuse me, but I would think someone as old as you would have more manners. I’m not some dumb mortal who’s gonna fall for your charms.”

 

  Chan feels like his heart would stop if it still worked, because Minho is really scolding two vampyres like a mother to a child, and it’s kind of hot.

 

  “Jeongyeon, Nayeon, what are you two doing here?”

 

  Chan’s nerves calm down a little when he sees the amused light in both the vampyres eyes, and he knows exactly what they’re doing; Checking out the mortal their little Channie brought to the ‘family dinner’. 

 

  Minho doesn’t know that though, and yet he still held his ground in front of them before Chan showed up. He’s oddly endeared by the human’s actions, no matter how stupid they are. 

 

  “Channie!” Jeongyeon says in faux surprise, sending him a small wink when Minho turns away from them to look at Chan. “We didn’t know this one was yours.”

 

  “ _ Bullshit _ ,” Minho says, and Chan has to drag him back to keep him from jumping the two vampyres as they giggle at him. “You two mosquito's were calling him a baby! Only  _ I  _ get to do that!”

 

  Minho is good at hiding his fear—or at least he would be if he wasn’t surrounded by predators who are made to notice every tremor and shift in the air. Chan can feel the tremors shooting through his body though, and takes a moment to slide his hand into Minho’s to reassure him. He sends Jeongyeon and Nayeon a look, because he knows they’re so close to cooing and stealing Minho away. 

 

  No matter how vampyres try to hide it, especially the older ones, they all find the concept of mortals knowing about their existence adorable. The two vampyres see Minho as a mortal would see a puppy doing a trick, adorable. Even more so now that Minho has shown them he’s willing to snap back at them if they tease. 

 

  Nayeon giggles and wiggles her fingers in a small wave as she links arms with Jeongyeon, “Pity you’re spoken for sweetheart, I would have loved to talk with you more.”

 

  Chan feels the tension bleed out of Minho as the two girls walk away and disappear into the crowd, and Chan turns to give Minho a look.

 

  “Really?”

 

  He cannot believe that Minho was dumb enough to back talk to another vampyre of all creatures He knew that Minho had gotten over most of his fears—so the human claimed—he just didn’t expect  _ that  _ of all things.

 

  Minho talks through a pout, stealing his hand away from Chan’s to cross his arms over his chest. “They were insulting you, it pissed me off. Who do they even think they are?”

 

  “Uh, try members of one of the most powerful female run Covens in the world.” Chan takes a step closer to Minho as the crowd closes in on them for a moment. He feels Minho’s warm breath fan over his face, and his eyelids flutter when Minho huffs out a small laugh. 

 

  “You’re short.” Minho says, no longer pouting so much. “If you’re not too upset with me, will you please dance now?”

 

  Chan really wants to say no, if not because Minho is an idiot, because of that damned comment about his height. He’s not that short, it’s barely an inch, but either way he doesn’t feel too inclined to leaving Minho alone again. 

 

  “Fine.”

 

  Minho’s expression lights up, and he’s quick to take Chan’s hands and drag him deeper into the crowd of the dance floor. His hands must be freezing, but Minho doesn’t shy away from him at all, pulling him until there’s barely any space between them.

 

  “I still can’t dance,” Chan says, feeling lightheaded all the sudden.

 

  “That’s okay, I still can.” Minho grins and wraps his arms around Chan’s neck shamelessly. “Just relax.”

 

  Chan wonders if this was Minho’s plan all along, swallowing around the lump in his throat when Minho takes his hands and sets them on his waist with confidence. They’re swaying to the beat of the song playing, but all Chan can hear is how loud Minho’s heartbeat is. The sound is amplified when Minho wraps his arms around Chan’s neck again, and Chan feels a slight shudder run through him when he feels Minho playing with the hair as the nape of his neck.

 

  “You’re making that very hard.”   
  
  Minho’s eyes flash, and Chan knows that he’s doing this all on purpose. “C’mon baby fangs, you’re doing great.”

 

  Chan breathes in suddenly, and is assaulted by Minho, the humans scent washing over him in waves of warmth so strong he feels his fingers press into Minho’s waist and pull him closer without really meaning to. Minho doesn’t seem to care though.

 

  He leans into Minho’s touch though, because Chan can’t remember the last time—before he met Minho—that anyone had let him touch them, had held his hand and pulled him into hugs so easily, had  _ danced  _ with him.

 

  The club is hot, and Chan knows they’re surrounded by hunger and the acrid tang of iron from blood in the air, but there’s something incredibly sweet and innocent about the way Minho giggles when he spins. Their hands never leaving each other as Minho pushes away, only for Chan to drag him back and to sway to the music again. 

 

  He doesn’t know why, but Minho keeps coming back to him.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ You promise that I won’t be left alone? _

 

__ Chan’s own words echo through his head as he helps Minho put his jacket back on. He wonders if Minho ever hesitates before he thinks of taking Chan’s hand in his own, because if he does Chan has yet to notice it. 

 

  “—I know Hyunjin would love you if he met you,” Minho says as they rush across the street, a few steps ahead of Chan. “He has a completely skewed image of vampyres. I mean, yeah some of them are assholes, but you’re not like that.”

 

  There’s no words that Chan knows to explain the emotion that bubbles up in his chest as Minho talks. It’s something warm, and all encompassing that chases away the Ugly Thing. 

 

  “Give him time?” Chan offers, watching Minho turn and look at him with a displeased pout.

 

  “You guys are immortal, time for you is nothing.”

 

  “Watch it, I’m not gonna catch you if you trip.” Chan tugs on Minho’s arm lightly, watching Minho walk backwards with pursed lips. 

 

  They both know Chan would never let Minho so much as stub his toe, but Minho still rights himself with a small huff, moving to walk shoulder to shoulder with Chan.

 

  “I hate having to leave you at the lamp post, maybe I want a good night kiss before I go inside!” Minho complains loudly, and Chan sputters. He really should be used to Minho’s antics by now, ut every flirting comment takes him off guard, just like the first. 

 

  Like every night, they reach the Gas Light District far too soon, and Chan doesn’t tell Minho that he can feel the hesitance in every one of his steps. They both want the walk to last longer, he knows.

 

  “Time to go,” Chan smiles, hiding the sadness that overcomes him when they finally let go of each others hands. It’s almost three in the morning. Mid afternoon for Chan, but Minho has a life to live when the sun comes up. So he pushes the human away, as gentle as he can manage. 

 

  “Same time next week?”

 

  “If I can manage it.” Chan teases, but they both know he’ll be there.

 

  Minho starts towards his apartment building, but seems to think of something just as he’s crossing the barrier. 

 

  “Chan c’mere.”   
  
  Minho holds his hand out, and Chan doesn’t hesitate to take it, even though he can feel the energy from the barrier reaching out to him, sending small jolts through his body, warnings to back off before he goes too close. 

 

_ To keep Minho safe from him. _ Chan thanks, but the thought doesn’t have time to take root before there’s another jolt of warmth running through him. Only it’s not from the barrier. 

 

  “Next time you can kiss me goodnight.” Minho grins, brushing his thumb over Chan’s dimple, where his lips just were. “Get home safe, baby fangs.”

 

  Minho pulls away after that, leaving Chan to stare after him with wide eyes as he waves goodnight. 

 

  It hurts more and more every time he watches Minho disappear into his apartment each night, but this time Chan doesn’t run away as soon as the door closes. This time he waits, his own hand hovering over his cheek where Minho kissed him, because if he touches it the phantom warmth will be chased away. 

 

  He makes eye contact with Minho through the window, and for the first time he sees Minho blush.

 

  It’s probably the prettiest thing Chan has ever seen. 

 

  “Night,” Chan releases the breath he’s been holding, shoving his hands into his pockets. Another zap of energy from the barrier rolls through him though, and Chan backs off before it starts to really hurt. 

 

_ Next time.  _

 

__ Chan smiles at the ground as he walks away, glancing over his shoulder just in time to see Minho’s apartment lights flicker off. 

 

_   Next time. _

 

__ “Bang Chan.”

 

  Chan freezes when he hears his name called out, body tensing as his head whips forwards. 

 

  A figure stands across the street, dark hair and eyes to match his outfit. For a moment Chan thinks he’s another vampyre, because he’s only met one mortal who managed to look to effortlessly beautiful. But there’s something wrong about the boys energy, there’s something very much  _ alive  _ about him. Not human, but alive.

 

  “Who’re you?” Chan’s voice doesn’t waver as he stares at the boy, and how could it when he’s made to be a predator. Chan isn’t supposed to feel fear anymore, because there’s nothing hunting a vampire, not at this time of night. Yet, somehow whoever this was had snuck up on him. 

 

  “A friend of… a friend.” 

 

  The boy’s eyes flicker over Chan’s shoulder pointedly, and Chan has a realization. 

 

  Waves of power roll off the boy, and a jolt of energy rolls down Chan’s spine even though the barrier is far behind him. 

 

  “A friend…” Chan repeats, and doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that it’s the same person who put up the barrier around Minho’s neighborhood. “You mean Minho.”

 

  The boys apathetic expression sours for a split second when Chan mentions Minho’s name. There’s an odd crackle in the air surrounding them, and suddenly the boy is right in front of Chan, a smile on his face that looks friendly, but Chan knows is nothing but a mask.

 

  “Time for you and me to have a little talk about that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter pushes me over the 100k word mark in all my fics written so far, so i guess that's a milestone sjdfhksj
> 
> also i hope this wasn't boring to read?? i personally had a lot of fun planning it out but it was kind of sad(?) in the beginning so sorry bout that lol
> 
> see y'all next time 
> 
> comments/kudos appreciated


	4. bone apple teeth lads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update this chapter pissed me off lol
> 
> who else is dead from the miroh teasers??? but honestly they give me big 80s vibes so,,, this au is thriving in my mind
> 
> edit: for anyone who reads this I'm probably not going to be able to update for a little bit because of school things, end of term is coming so im rushing to get all my missing stuff handed in
> 
> gotta grind lads, stay safe and I can't wait to see y'all for next chapter!! ♡

  “Sugar?” 

 

  “No thank you, I’m fine.” Chan takes the coffee slowly, eyes flickering between the liquid and eyes that are equally as dark. 

 

  He didn’t expect to have this ‘talk’ at an old 24 hour cafe, but he doesn’t really think anything could truly shock him anymore. If the guy wants to talk over a cup of coffee, why should Chan argue? At least in a public place like this there’s a chance that the dude won’t blow the whole place sky high if Chan says something wrong.

 

  “Heathen.” Hyunjin, as he had introduced himself, mutters as he rips open a sugar packet and dumps it into his coffee. 

 

  Chan isn’t sure why though, seeing as it’s 3 am and he knows for a fact that even powerful beings need sleep.

 

  “So,” Chan starts, “let’s talk.”

 

  “Jeez, slow your roll. It’s three in the fucking morning.” Hyunjin scoffs, giving Chan a weird look as he waves his hand over his coffee and disperses the steam rolling off the surface. “There’s a reason we’re drinking coffee right now, I’m fucking exhausted.”

 

  Can’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t say anything as Hyunjin nurses his coffee. He doesn’t touch his own just yet though, he’s far too antsy already. Chan can feel the energy thrum through his veins from how on edge he is, because he knows Hyunjin is powerful as fuck, especially if he was able to create that barrier. Magic like that is thousands of years old, and can barely be wielded by seasoned wizards.

 

  One of the first lessons Bambam taught him, and the first serious one: If you sense a Magic User, run. They will not hesitate to kill you.

 

  But here Chan is having coffee with one.

 

  Hyunjin takes what feels like hours to finish his coffee, and while Chan is more comfortable now that his ass has left an imprint in the booth they sit in, he’s beginning to dread what happens when Hyunjin finishes his drink.

 

  “Good, you pass the first test.”

 

  Chan’s head snaps up so fast he thinks he gave himself whiplash when he sees Hyunjin looking at him with an emotionless expression.

 

  “Test?”

 

  “Mhm.” Hyunjin slides his mug to the edge of the table and laces his fingers together on top of the table. “That was your first one, you passed it with an average result. But I was expecting that.”

 

  The coffee in Chan’s hands has gone cold, both from how long they sat and because Chan radiates a chill like no other. “What the fuck do you mean?”

 

  “Look, Chan. We both know that Minho is a stubborn bitch, and as much as I disapprove of his crush on you I know there’s nothing I can say or do that will provide the outcome I want, and end with us still being friends. So I’m trying to see his side of the story. Which means,”

 

  Hyunjin’s eyes snap up to meet Chan’s, and the air becomes filled with electricity. Chan feels like he’s in one of those new animes he used to watch where the main villain challenges the protagonist to the final battle. The scene is zeroed in on the two, even if it’s just him and Hyunjin in a coffee shop. If it was any more like an anime Hyunjin would probably have stood up and pointed at Chan for dramatic emphasis.

 

  “You’re going to date me.”

 

  The world goes silent. 

 

  Then, “What?!”

 

  Hyunjin stands up as if he didn’t just say something completely insane, brushing off his spotless shirt and adjusting his hair.

 

  “What the fuck do you mean, ‘I’m going to date you’ that’s—What?” Chan stumbles over his words, leaning away from Hyunjin as the boy steps closer. For the first time in three years, Chan is properly scared of what is about to happen to him.

 

  “You are going to woo me, seduce me like you did to Minho. And by the end of this date, we’ll see if you could treat Minho like the princess he is.” Hyunjin straightens his collar, and Chan barely has a moment to process what he just said when Hyunjin places a sturdy hand on Chan’s shoulder and snaps his fingers with his other hand.

 

  Chan immediately feels dizzy, like the time he stepped off the round wheel thing at the park as a kid after his father had spun him so fast the world was just a blur of color and him screaming. He doesn’t scream now, but that’s probably just because it happens too fast for his brain to process what just happened, until he’s standing next to Hyunjin in a fancy restaurant, and they’re definitely not in a 24/7 cafe in Seoul anymore.

 

  “What the fuck just happened?” Chan asks, pressing his hand to his forehead and blinking away the spots that are popping up in his vision.

 

  “Easy, there’s no where that’ll be open for dinner in Seoul, so I took us elsewhere.” Hyunjin says, and snaps his fingers, making Chan flinch. He is so not interested in going through whatever that was again. “We’ll take this table please.”

 

  A blonde man who looks to be their age, or at least Chan’s age runs out and Chan is surprised when they make eye contact and the man winks at him, grinning. There’s a strange mark on his forehead where his hair is slicked back, and Chan has to rack his brain for a moment to remember what Bambam told him about magical creatures.

 

  “You’re… You’re a unicorn.”

 

  “And you’re being rude.” Hyunjin scoffs and Chan sees him standing by the table he picked out, standing by one of the two seats with arms crossed over his chest. “Well? You have to pull out my chair for me!”

 

  Something about the steely look in Hyunjin’s eyes makes Chan jump at the words, and he hurries over to pull out the chair for Hyunjin to sit in.

 

  “Are we at the Eiffel Tower..?” Chan asks suddenly, once he becomes aware of the huge metal skeleton that runs past the window their table is pushed up next to. The light of the city twinkle far below them, and for a brief moment, Chan wishes he was here on an actual date with Minho so he could admire the view of the City of Love with a kinder eye.

 

  But no, he has to fake date Hyunjin apparently. 

 

  “Mhm, my favorite place. Well, for now.” Hyunjin hums, flipping open a menu with pursed lips. Chan can feel him glance over the top once or twice, but other than that it’s silent between them.

 

  “What is up guys, my name is Han Jisung and I’ll be serving up some dish tonight.” The blonde returns with a flourish, and Chan notices that the guy is wearing an oversized patchwork sweater and ripped jeans under his pink frilled apron, and Chan begins to think that the dude doesn’t actually work in a fancy restaurant in the Eiffel Tower.

 

  “You’re right, I don’t” The boy grins, and winks when Chan’s jaw drops. “Today our specials are boxed mac and cheese, microwavable pizza or ramyeon because that’s all I know how to make.”

 

  “I’ll have the soup please.” Hyunjin says, handing his menu to Jisung. “Channie?”

 

  The nickname makes Chan grimace, and Hyunjin sends him a sickly sweet grin.

 

  “Problem?”

 

  “No. I’ll have the mac and cheese, please.”

 

  “Ha, that rhymed.” Jisung giggles and takes Chan’s menu. “Be back in a sec with the munchies.”

 

  Chan watches Jisung disappear back into the kitchen, the two doors flapping open and shut behind him until they eventually stop. There’s a loud clanging of pots and pans, and Chan hears Jisung swearing somewhere in the kitchen.

 

   _“-I swear to god I will guillotine you Jacques!”_

 

  Chan glances between the door and Hyunjin stiffly. “Is he-?”

 

  “Unicorn. No they’re not all like that, he’s just special.” Hyunjin says and taps his fingers on the table, as if he’s waiting for something. “I’m cold.”

 

  There’s a stifling awkwardness in the air, as Chan and Hyunjin make eye contact every few seconds, only for Chan to look away and pretend that he’s admiring the lining to the tablecloth or the view. Really, he wishes this was a proper date, that the restaurant was full of people and Minho was sitting across from him saying things that would make human Chan blush and stutter.

 

  If only Chan had been born a few years later, maybe he could have bumped into Minho as a human and this wouldn’t be happening. 

 

  “Chan, I said I’m cold.” Hyunjin’s eyes are sharp, his voice strained.

 

  “And… What should I do about it?”

 

  “Jesus Christ, you really are adorably dumb.” Hyunjin scoffs, and Chan is offended for a moment until he realizes that Hyunjin would most likely never call him adorable on his own accord, so that means he’s quoting someone.

 

  Minho thinks he’s adorable?

 

  “Uh…”

 

  “If you’re on a date with someone, and they look like or say that they’re cold, it’s usually customary to give them your jacket.” Hyunjin explains as if he’s talking to a child, and at this point Chan is pretty sure that analogy is correct. If Hyunjin’s aura of power has anything to say, they both might be immortal, but Hyunjin is definitely one old son of a bitch.

 

  “You’re supposed to woo me Chan. I’m not feeling very wooed right now.”

 

  “Oh, um,” Chan stutters as he struggles to take his jacket off, the sleeves catching around his wrist until he tears it off. He nearly trips over himself standing up, and holds the article of clothing up for Hyunjin to wear. “Here.”

 

  Hyunjin takes the jacket with a strange smile on his face, as if he’s amused by Chan’s awkwardness. He settles it over his shoulders while Chan sits down stiffly, the image of Hyunjin wearing his leather jacket strange. He doesn’t like it much.

 

  They both stare at each other for a moment, and Chan glances around the room. He really wishes Jisung would come back and make things a bit less weird. The guy seems to have the type of personality tailored towards breaking the ice.

 

  “Yeah this is weird, take it back.” Hyunjin finally says, shrugging off Chan’s jacket and holding it out. Once the jacket is out of his hands, he snaps his fingers and all the sudden he’s wearing a dark green blazer over his shirt. “A for effort though man, seriously.”

 

  “Thank you?” Chan pulls his jacket back on, shuddering when small pinpricks of leftover energy from Hyunjin dissipate over his skin.

 

  “You’re gonna have to get better at that for Minho though, he gets cold easily.” 

 

  Chan’s eyes snap up to stare, because… Did Hyunjin just give him actual advice on Minho?

 

  I’ve noticed, I try to wear thicker clothes, but he doesn’t care much for personal space—Not that I mind, er, well…”

 

  “Nah I get it, Minho likes to pretend like he doesn’t like affection, and maybe he doesn’t like receiving it from just anyone, but he definitely likes hugging and clinging to people.” Hyunjin says with a fond smile, wine glass in hand as he tilts his head curiously and looks out the window that spans the wall their table is pushed up against.

 

  Thy city is bright with lights, and Chan can see the people down on the street, moving around like little ants.

 

  Back in Seoul it has to be almost five in the morning, which means in less than two hours Minho will be waking up to go to work. Chan really wishes he hadn’t kept Minho out so late last night, tonight? Time zones are weird. He just hopes Minho doesn’t get in trouble for being tired during his shift.

 

  Truthfully Chan doesn’t have time for this faux date, but he would never tell Hyunjin that. There’s no way he’s risking offending the all powerful immortal being sitting across from him sipping on try-hard-grape-juice. 

 

  “Bone apple teeth lads.” Chan is pulled out of his thoughts, and realizes he had been frowning into his drink before Jisung showed up with two steaming dishes on his plate. Hyunjin’s ramyeon and Chan’s mac and cheese.

 

  “Bowl ape the tea indeed.” Hyunjin says when Jisung sets the bowl in front of him, and Chan doesn’t bother figuring out what the hell they’re on.

 

  “Thank you.”

 

  Jisung drops into a low bow, almost forty five degrees, and Chan wonders how flexible Jisung is to do so so effortlessly. The unicorn tips an invisible hat and backs away with his arms raised in the direction of Chan’s mac and cheese.

 

  “Bone apple the teeth my good sire,” Jisung whispers, looking uncharacteristically serious as he straightens up and puts a hand over his heart. “Enjoy this meal with your very soul.”

 

  “Thank you Jisung, you can go now.” Hyunjin says mid slurp, and Jisung perks up at that.

 

  “Aye aye captain, peace out losers!” Jisung snaps and his pink apron disappears, hair poofing out of the gelled back style as if by magic and falling in loose waves that frame his face. He waves and blows them kisses as he walks out of the restaurant. “Nice to meet you Channie, give Minho a kiss for me if Hyunjin lets you see him again!” 

 

 “Uh-huh.” Chan grunts, his jaw slack. He feels like his head is mush. Who the fuck is Minho friends with??

 

  “He was the only free one tonight.” Hyunjin sighs as he twirls a chunk of noodles around his chopsticks. “Definitely not my first choice. Honestly, Minho would be my first, he’s always good at being serious. I thought that would make this exchange awkward though.”

 

  “Of course, that’s what would make this awkward.” Chan snaps back sarcastically, stabbing his spoon into the pile of golden cheesy goodness on his plate and hopes that even if Jisung only knows how to cook three dishes he knows how to cook them well.

 

  Chan’s palette has been extremely sensitive since changing. 

 

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

 

  They both dig into their food after that, and Chan is beginning to think that Hyunjin isn’t too awful once he warms up and stops looking at Chan like he’s the antichrist. Yeah, maybe in some religions he is, but that doesn’t mean it’s not damn rude to stare at people. 

 

  “Hey,” Hyunjin breaks through the silence and Chan looks up, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Your food looks good, can I try some?”

 

  If Chan’s mouth had food in it, he probably would have spewed it all over Hyunjin with how he choked on air. 

 

  “You want—What?” Chan stares in disbelief at Hyunjin, who has this suspicious glint in his eyes that makes Chan want to hide his dinner away from the creature before he can soil it with his strangeness.

 

  Hyunjin’s eyes harden suddenly, “That barrier is only getting bigger.”

 

  “Fuc—Okay okay.” Chan swears under his breath and rushes to scoop up some mac and cheese, blowing on it gently and cupping his hand under the utensil. The cool air his body expels naturally is enough to get the food down to an acceptable temperature. Chan had learned that trick when he saw Mark do it at a ramyeon joint once.

 

  “Mhph, thanks.” Hyunjin opens his mouth expectantly, and Chan freezes.

 

  “You—”

 

  “Woo me.”

  
  


  Chan would rather redo his first date ever than continue with this one.

 

  Thankfully the date isn’t actually that long, as Hyunjin’s coffee buzz only lasts so long. Chan can hear the way Hyunjin’s heart slows down a bit, and notices the way his lips twitch when he fights back the beginnings of a yawn. It makes sense though, seeing as it’s six in the morning in Seoul, meaning Hyunjin has been out all night, while Chan is unphased by the sleepless night. 

 

  Hyunjin snaps their dishes away, and even manages to smooth out the slight impressions Chan’s elbows left in the silken tablecloth as he moved things around and bunched it up on accident.

 

  It’s when Hyunjin pulls a folded piece of paper out of thin air and slides it on the table face down that Chan really feels the anxiety kick in.

 

  “What’s that.?”

 

  “Your final grade for the night.”

 

  “Final Grade?” Chan gapes at the paper, and all the things he did wrong or wasn’t polite enough about begin to come back to him. “Dude, you can’t be serious.”

 

  They stare at each other for a long moment, and Hyunjin’s stoic expression doesn’t change a bit, until all of the sudden it crumbles and he breaks into a shit eating grin

 

  “You should have seen your face oh my god. No, this isn’t an actual grade. Well, yeah it’s a report card but it’s all arbitrary.” Hyunjin begins to hand the card to Chan properly,, but then he stops and pulls it away again. “Actually, there’s one part I still need to check. Stand up.”

 

  Chan is not going to lie, he’s confused. But he does as Hyunjin instructs.

 

  “Do a twirl sweetie.” Hyunjin says in a fake sweet voice, and Chan makes a face at him when his back is towards Hyunjin. “Oh very nice. Here ya go.”

 

  Chan snatches the report card away from Hyunjin and nearly rips it in half in his haste to open it and scan over Hyunjin’s infuriatingly neat handwriting. 

  
  


**ability to be cute:** c+

**general aura** : vampiric

**chivalry:** dead, like him

**confidence:** dismal

**charm:** dimples

**looks:** not as pretty as me, but acceptable

**general aura:** has never experienced greece

**final grade:** eleven out of ten minho would date

***ass:** would tap dat [ minho’s glasses are doing their job ]

 

_ Signed; Hwang Hyunjin  _

  
  
  


  Chan thinks he might throttle Hyunjin. 

 

  “Seriously, if I thought you had any intentions to hurt Minho you would be sixty feet down in a concrete coffin.” Hyunjin says it like a joke, but Chan feels like he pales, even though that’s not exactly something he can do anymore. “You’d have never made it to the end of the street.”

 

 “Ahaha, okay.” Chan hates how weak his voice sounds, but the joking and easygoing Hyunjin from dinner is gone, and he’s looking at Chan like he’s calculating how much power it would take to crush him into a tiny little ball. Chan doesn’t think it would be that much.

 

  “Time for you to go Bang Chan, thanks for the talk.” Hyunjin hums, and before Chan can say anything else, Hyunjin snaps his fingers and Chan feels that nausea come over him again. The world spins until all he can see is a whirl of muted colors.

 

  Then Chan is on his back, staring up at the familiar crack in the ceiling of his apartment in Seoul. It takes him a moment to sort out his head as his thoughts scramble together, and Chan sits up jerkily. There’s no sign of anyone in the apartment besides him, and when Chan presses his hand to his chest he notices that he had somehow been changed out of his night clothes into one of his hoodies and a pair of flannel pajama pants. 

 

  It seems like Hyunjin does have some kindness in his heart.

 

  Chan putters around his apartment, making a cup of hot chocolate for himself while he watching the bloody orange of the sunrise flood in through the big window on the far wall. His apartment is empty mostly, a single room with an old futon pushed up against the wall covered by a thrifted quilt, and Chan’s bed right under the window, a pitiful full sized mattress that doesn’t even have a sheet because of how little Chan sleeps in it now.

 

  He settles down onto the mattress and places his cocoa on the deep windowsill. 

 

  Chan sits at the window for a while, thinking of Paris, and Hyunjin’s ‘talk’ as he called it. Chan thinks of Minho, and wishes that he knew whether or not Minho ate breakfast, the man was already so fragile. It worried Chan to think Minho wasn’t getting enough sleep or food in him, but then again Chan was the reason for the latter recently. He just couldn’t help it, he was greedy when it came to Minho’s time, Minho’s attention. He wanted every smile, every giggle. He wanted to see Minho’s happiness up close.

 

  Chan lets out a long sigh, and lets himself fall onto his back.

 

  A faint crumpling sound comes to his attention, much louder to his sensitive ears. And when Chan sits up and looks under the blanket that covers his mattress, he finds an envelope addressed to him in familiar neat writing.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_   Dear Bang Chan,  _

 

_   Let it be known that I don’t like vampyres, and probably never will. However, I would be stupid to ignore the fact that you do care about Minho, and he likes you as well. Inside you will find a surprise, please try not to spoil it for Minnie. _

_   Cordially yours, Hwang Hyunjin.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda short but this chapter kicked my ass in the sense that i thought i had written at least 3k words and only had 1k
> 
> a big oof
> 
> comments/kudos appreciated!! see y'all next chapter


	5. i could kiss you hwang hyunjin, i could kill you hwang hyunjin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaa im so sorry for taking so long, i explained more in my note for the most recent chapter of Summers End, but basically I passed all my classes with flying colors but decided to take a break because I have been /stressed/
> 
> i'm still stressed, but less stressed and i feel good so im back to writing lol
> 
> enjoy!!

  Birthdays are… Strange for Minho, to say the least.

 

  “Surprise!” Hyunjin pops into Minho’s bedroom out of thin air, dressed to the nines and even wearing makeup as he fixes his hair and snaps his fingers, the curtains opening across the room and filling it with evil sunlight. “Happy birthday!”  
  
  A sound close to a death rattle emits from Minho’s throat, and he can barely see Hyunjin’s silhouette through the sleep that clouds his vision. He’s swaying on his feet, but Hyunjin has dragged him out of bed and has a vice grip on his wrist to keep Minho from slithering back into the warmth of his blankets and sleep through the day.

 

  Minho hisses and flinches away from the light when it hits his eyes, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes when Minho koalas onto him.

 

  “Stop being such a drama queen,” Hyunjin scoffs, but carries Minho into the kitchen with ease.

 

  “Fuck you.” Minho groans into Hyunjin’s shoulder, squinting through the sunlight in his kitchen and frowning when Hyunjin drops him onto his couch rather unceremoniously.

 

  Hyunjin ignores Minho, and makes himself comfortable in Minho’s kitchen as he turns on the kettle and snaps his fingers a few times. Minho knows exactly what Hyunjin is doing, because he does it every year. Barges into Minho’s house and makes him breakfast, only this time Hyunjin didn’t have to pretend to use his key or pretend to carry in all the food.

 

  “Here ya go honey bunch,” Hyunjin coos, and Minho has to resist the urge to slap Hyunjin, because his friend has Minho’s precious tea in his hands. Only when Minho reaches for it with his grubby goblin hands, Hyunjin snatches it away again. “Uh-uh, not until you get dressed. Be pretty, we’re gonna have guests today.”

 

  “I will kill you.”

 

  If only Minho didn’t want his tea so bad.

 

  He decides Hyunjin can go fuck himself, putting on the first pair of jeans he can find in his drawers, and doesn’t bother changing out of his shirt he slept in. Instead he just tucks the dark fabric into his jeans and pulls on one of his big sweaters so he looks slightly more well put together, also, it’s just really cold in his apartment. Looking in the mirror, he still looks like he just rolled out of bed, but at least he looks fashionable while doing it.

 

  “Give me my fucking life source.” Minho demands, and barely has to wait before the mug is in his hand and Minho inhales the first half.

 

  “Awe, you look cute.” Hyunjin tries to cup Minho’s cheeks like a baby, but the glare Minho sends him kills that idea. “Oh come on, smile, it’s your birthday! And we’re having company today, so no being a grump.”

 

  “Eh?” Minho makes a strange noise, eyebrows furrowing together as Hyunjin walks away to finish breakfast. “What do you mean company?”

 

  “Oh I invited Wooj, Innie, Seungmin and Jisung. I hope you don’t mind.”

 

  “Okay, but why?” Minho asks as he runs his fingers through his hair, trying his best to flatten it a little, with little success. He and Hyunjin have always celebrated Minho’s birthday on their own, ever since Hyunjin squeezed it out of Minho as to when exactly Minho’s birthday was.

 

  Minho has never liked his birthday. He’s acknowledged that it’s a part of life, and he doesn’t have a problem with growing older. He just doesn’t see the need for big parties and celebration, like, congrats you haven’t died yet? Maybe you’ll make it to next year, who knows, ooh! He doesn’t get it. Hyunjin absolutely loves to throw parties though, especially when he can force Minho to attend.

 

  Minho’s birthday is like a field day for Hyunjin, and now that Minho knows about his world Minho can only imagine all the magic stuffs Hyunjin is going to want to try out.

 

  “Why not? They’re your friends too now, aren’t they?” Hyunjin asks, snapping his fingers and making most of Minho’s kitchenware spring to life. In reality it’s not much, but when a butter knife comes a little too close to Minho for comfort, it kinda seems like a whole lot.

 

  Minho grumbles in response, unwilling to admit his growing attachment to the four creatures, boys? He doesn’t even know, but the thought of Jisung fawning over a lit birthday candle while Jeongin flashes his sharp rows of teeth, and Woojin tries to convince them that a fork is the best way to attack the sweet treat, brings a fond smile to Minho. Especially because he knows Seungmin will probably make himself comfortable in the window seat where Minho had moved his Crasata Ovata like the boy had suggested. Ever since the plant has been doing even better than before.

 

  Minho has yet to start singing more though.

 

  The rest of their guests start arriving sometime after noon, and Minho doesn’t question how they all know where he lives.

 

  While Hyunjin gathers the three youngest for help with decoration, Woojin immediately decides to sniff everything, even if it just means stepping into every room and making a noise like someone with a cold would when sniffling. Minho doesn’t want to admit that Woojin reminds him of the dog in the next building over, who always snuffles over to Minho when he walks by to get to class in the morning. They have the same warm brown eyes.

 

  “Smell anything weird?” Minho asks with an amused tone as he watches Woojin poke his head into Minho’s room, but doesn’t actually step inside.

 

  “Nah, just a whole lot of you, Hyunjin, and vamp. Hyunjin is exaggerating though, they don’t actually smell that bad.” Woojin seems to think for a moment before continuing. “You really picked a young one though, he still has traces of humanity on him.”

 

  Minho’s lips fall into a small frown, and he shifts his weight as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You can smell Channie’s humanity?”

 

  Woojin’s eyes sparkle with a knowing look when Minho uses the nickname. “Something like that. Vamps all have their own scent, but there’s one underlying layer that’s specific to the species. When you have a vamp or any created creature as new as ‘Channie’, they tend to have a bit of a transition period between their scent going from completely human, to being consumed by their slightly different vampire scent.”

 

  “Does… Does that mean Chan is, _losing_ his humanity?” Minho asks in a small voice, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to wrap his head around Woojin’s explanations and how Minho understood them.

 

  “Oh not at all.” Woojin shuts Minho’s bedroom door, a gentle smile on his face. “It’s just how he smells, I promise. It happened to me too, back when I was new.”

 

  “Oh, that’s… That’s good.” Minho says, and he knows that Woojin can see the subtle tension that had been building in Minho bleed away with his answer.

  
  
  


  Minho’s house isn’t really meant for get togethers. It’s barely three rooms, and most of his furniture are hand me downs or from the thrift store across the city. The floors creak and the walls are too thin for Hyunjin to really blast the music like he probably wishes he could, but in the end Minho doesn’t think he minds too much.

 

  “Now tell me why exactly we have to wait on presents?” Minho asks one more time, because for the past hour Hyunjin has been looking at the clock with a strange look in his eyes, and absentmindedly tapping on his watch as if that will make time go any faster. It’s really beginning to weird Minho out if he’s being honest. He’s been trying to think of a reason Hyunjin would be acting so strange, and the best thing he’s come up with is that the world is ending and that’s why Hyunjin decided to bring them all together in an odd birthday gathering.

 

  Hyunjin’s expression lights up suddenly though, and Minho watches in confusion as Hyunjin clears his throat loudly, and everyone else in the room stop what they were doing and join him.

 

  “Sorry Minho, I just remembered something, uh, magical I need to talk to these guys about.” Hyunjin stumbles over his words, dragging Seungmin away from Minho’s plant and shoving him into the kitchen with the others.

 

  “What-?” Minho’s attention is pulled away by a knock on the door, and when he looks back at Hyunjin, he’s grinning like a maniac, and Minho is less confused and more worried now.

 

  “Hey I think someone’s at the door you should go answer that, like now. Right now.” Hyunjin says, almost too fast for Minho to understand.

 

  Minho stands in the now empty room for a moment, unsure of what exactly is happening right now. He doesn’t think Hyunjin would act like this if the world was ending, so Minho’s head automatically goes to the next worst case scenario. Hyunjin buying a stripper for Minho’s birthday.

 

  He suddenly doesn’t want to open to the door, but a phantom push sends Minho stumbling to the door.

 

  Another hesitant knock, and Minho schools the grimace that had begun to grow on his face into a neutral expression. That is, he tries to, but then he opens the door.

 

  That’s Chan. Right in front of him.

 

  In Minho’s hallway.

 

  In Minho’s building.

 

  “What the fuck.” Is all Minho says, because his brain can’t understand how Chan is standing right in front of him looking all shy and hopeful, but at the same time fucking sexy in his all black outfit. A plain tee shirt under a blazer that fits him way too good, just like those damn jeans. His usually curly blonde hair has been straightened so it’s less curl now, and more loose waves. It looks shorter, and Minho wonders if Chan had it cut recently. He feels like he hasn’t seen Chan in weeks.

 

  “Hi,” Chan says, and Minho finally notices the small box Chan is holding in his hands, wrapped up in shimmery silver paper with a golden bow. “Surprise.”

 

  Minho whips around to see Hyunjin watching him from the kitchen doorway, a shit eating grin on his face, because of course he knew Chan was coming. Chan wouldn’t have been able to come if Hyunjin didn’t allow him through the barrier.

 

  “Happy birthday!” Hyunjin yells, right as Jisung and Woojin walk out with a cake held between them.

 

  Minho looks back at Chan with wide eyes, and he’s pretty sure his heart flutters a little when he sees the familiar flash of fangs and dimples when Chan grins. Only it’s Chan _in_ his apartment, and Minho can’t seem to wrap his head around that just yet.

 

  “I think we broke him.” Seungmin says through a mouthful of cake.

 

  “Should we slap him?”

 

  “What- No, no we should not slap him!” Chan looks at Jeongin as if he’s crazy, carefully setting down the present and moving back to stand in front of Minho. “Hey.”

 

  “You’re in my house.” Is all Minho says, disbelief in his voice as he watches Chan smile in that sweet shy way of his. “You. In my house.”

 

  “Yeah, I got an invitation for your birthday, and I figured that I’d be an awful friend to miss it.”

 

   _I could kiss you Hwang Hyunjin._ Minho thinks to himself, but he also realizes that might send the wrong message to Chan. So Minho sticks to punching Chan in the shoulder and whipping around to glare at Hyunjin, who is still holding the cake with Woojin and Jisung.

 

  “I’ll fucking murder you Hwang Hyunjin.”

 

  “Oh come on, right in front of your boyfriend?”

 

  Minho sputters violently, and feels Chan do the same right beside him.

 

  “I’m not-”

 

  “We’re not-”

 

  “So… Can we eat cake or are we just gonna stand here for another millennia?” Jisung breaks through the silence, as if he hasn’t already cut himself a piece of the cake and started eating.

 

  They all decide that cake seems like a much better idea, and even if Minho still can’t believe that Chan is really sitting on his own old ratty couch, just a few feet away, there’s something familiar about the setting.

 

  Minho shuffles closer to Chan, and when he feels Chan lean away slightly he hooks his arm with Chans, ignoring the side glances he knows Hyunjin is giving him.

 

  “You’re gonna get cold,” Chan says in a voice just louder than a whisper, giving Minho a concerned look.

 

  “I don’t care,” Minho says, and he really doesn’t. He could get frostbite from holding Chan’s hand and he doesn’t think he’d care. Because as long as Chan is here in his shitty apartment, and not standing out by that damned lamppost, Minho is okay with anything.

 

  Chan smiles at him, and it takes Minho a second to smile back, too caught up in the sight of Chan’s adorable fangs and dimples.

 

  “Oh, hey, let me go get your present!” Chan says, as if he had completely forgotten about the small box he brought in with him.

 

  It’s endearing, the way he stumbles over himself in his haste to go get it from Minho’s room, where they had put all the presents to free up room in the living room for them all to hang out. Minho’s apartment really wasn’t big enough to hold this many people, but somehow they were making it work.

 

  “Don’t get lost,” Minho calls out to Chan as he disappears around the corner, and then turning his attention to Seungmin who is in the middle of a tangent about how they need to start putting more recycle bins in the park, and how if one more dog even _looks_ at his tree he’ll throw a fit.

 

  Minho and Woojin pretend not to notice the heart eyes Jeongin is throwing Seungmin as the older boy grows more and more agitated the more he talks.

 

  “Okay, okay, let’s not spend Minho’s entire party ranting about how shitty the human race is.” Woojin eventually cuts Seungmin off, when Minho’s plants begin to shrink away from him.

 

  “Sorry…”

 

  “Anyways,” Jisung starts, “Tell us, were you surprised when Chan showed up?”

 

  Minho is cut off guard by the sudden topic change, and realizes that everyone is looking at him with expectant eyes, waiting for him to answer the question.

 

  “Oh, well, yeah. I didn’t think Hyunjin would ever take down the barrier, much less invite him to my birthday party.” Minho chuckles, glancing around the room, trying to find Hyunjin to give him a look.

 

  But Hyunjin isn’t in the room.

 

  “Hyunjin wanted it to be a surprise, obviously.” Woojin starts, but there’s a cautious edge to his voice. “Personally I don’t think he’s completely warmed up to Chan though—”

 

  “It would probably be different if he wasn’t a vampire, you know how Hyunjin feels—” Jisung butts in.

 

  “Shush, he might hear you! You know he’s still heartbroken about C—”

 

  Minho isn’t listening though, because he’s wondering why Chan is taking so long. There’s no way he could have _actually_ gotten lost, Minho’s room is the only door in the hallway. Plus, if Hyunjin is suddenly gone, they’re probably together. Needless to say, Minho is worried.

 

  “I’m gonna go get a sweater, I’m cold.” Minho says, almost robotically as he stands up, eyes trained on the entrance to the hallway. He misses Woojin’s gaze on him, eyebrows furrowed together and lips pressed into a tight line, nervous.

 

  He doesn’t mean to, but Minho holds his breath as he walks down the hall, careful to avoid the spots he knows will creak if he steps on them.

 

  His bedroom door is open just a crack, and from the end of the hall he can hear the hushed tones of two people arguing. The thought of Hyunjin and Chan fighting sends a chill down Minho’s spine, unsure of who would win if it surpassed words, and even worse, he doesn’t know who he would want to win.

 

  Minho stops just outside the door, afraid to breathe, in case Chan or Hyunjin hear him standing outside. They seem too engrossed in their argument though.

 

  _“Please, I can’t live without him.”_

 

  Minho freezes when he finally can hear what they’re saying, eyes widening as he presses his hand against the wall to steady himself.

 

  “I can’t just _do_ that, we don’t even know if he _wants_ that.”

 

  “You’d be willing to fucking abandon him? Leave him while you don’t grow a day older? While his hair goes grey, and with every breath he grows closer to death? You’d be _okay_ with that?”

 

  Minho’s eyes burn, and he blinks away the tears that threaten to spill over with every word spoken.

 

  “And let him live his goddamn life?” Chan spits out suddenly, and Minho flinches, even though he’s on the other side of the door. “Yeah. It would tear me apart Hyunjin, I’d be fucking _devastated_ , but I would do it if it meant he could be happy.”

 

  Minho hears Hyunjin scoff, but he can also hear the uncertainty in his friends voice.

 

  “You’re fucking selfish Hyunjin, you don’t care about him being happy. You just wanted me to come here so you could convince me to turn him, all so you could steal him away once he was immortal. But guess what, I’m not like that.”

 

  The venom in Chan’s tone startles Minho, but at the same time Chan sounds so tired.

 

  Minho backs away slowly, furiously wiping tears away before he reaches the living room. He doesn’t want to talk to any of the guys about what he heard, though he’s pretty sure by the fleeting eye contact with Woojin, the man heard everything. Thankfully he doesn’t say anything, just puts a comforting hand on Minho’s shoulder.

 

  “Minho, aren’t you already wearing a sweater?” Jeongin starts to ask, but Woojin waves him off so Minho doesn’t have to answer.

 

  He’ll have to remember to thank Woojin someday in the future.

 

  Chan and Hyunjin return a few minutes later, and Minho avoids eye contact with Hyunjin. He can’t believe his best friend right now.

 

  The air is heavier now, and Minho can feel Hyunjin glaring in their direction as Chan settles down beside Minho again. He places a hand on Minho’s knee, something that is almost nonchalant, but Minho can see Jisung scrunch up his nose and look between Chan and Hyunjin in confusion, and he knows Chan is doing the same thing he had the first night they met. Whatever had clung to Minho, and what Hyunjin smelled when he went home that night.

 

  Minho doesn’t know what it is, but he figures it’s something along the lines of, _Back Off._

 

  He doesn’t even notice that Chan didn’t come back with his present.

  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Minho kicks everyone out about an hour later, besides Chan who stays a bit later.

 

  Hyunjin clearly isn’t happy about it, but he does his best to hide his frown when he leaves with Woojin. Minho is pretty sure the older boy has to drag Hyunjin out of the building.

 

  In reality Chan only stayed a few minutes later, enough for them to have a proper hug without anyone watching them, and for Minho to kiss his cheek before he leaves again. It would be a lie if Minho said he didn’t think of kissing Chan for real, but something about the argument he overheard left a sour taste in his mouth.

 

  He doesn’t let himself really think about it until long after Chan has left, and he’s elbows deep in suds while he washes the dishes the guys left, oh so graciously, in his sink.

 

  Fucking birthdays.

 

  Minho had never really thought of them much before now. They passed and he was a year older. Yay. One year closer to death, something he didn’t really think of often if he was being honest. This year had been strange though, because now he knows Hyunjin is not twenty, and will still not be twenty physically for a long time, and will probably celebrate that birthday with some other mortal friend he makes a couple thousand years from now. Long after Minho is dead and gone, maybe so far in the future that Hyunjin won’t even remember Minho.

 

  Not to mention that now he’s just barely a year younger than Chan, who isn’t getting older at all.

 

  The thought makes Minho stop in the middle of washing a fork, and he doesn’t realize how tightly he was holding it until he feels a sharp spike of pain, and looks down to see an angry red line where the metal dug into his skin.

 

  Honestly Minho hadn’t been that worried about it, his birthday, today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow. But it would be a lie if he said it didn’t cross his mind at all. Now, his next birthday seems all the more daunting.

 

  It had never even crossed his mind, being turned by Chan. He just wanted to flirt, hold Chan’s hand, kiss whatever life he still had right out of him.

 

  “Fuck,” Minho mutters as he stares at his reflection in the window above the sink.

  

  Minho just wants to fall asleep and forget about today, to wake up without thoughts of growing old, of his friends forgetting about him. Forget about the lonely future ahead of him. He deserts the rest of the dishes, promising to do them tomorrow as he sheds his clothes and switches them for some boxers and an old long sleeve.

 

  His apartment is silent, besides the faint wailing of sirens across the city, and the occasional hum of a car engine as it passes by. It’s nothing Minho isn’t used to, but after having the apartment so full and noisy earlier, the silence seems deafening now as he holes up under his duvet.

 

  The thick blankets wrap around him, too warm for comfort, but Minho’s muscles are suddenly sore, and he’s too tired to find the thinner ones shoved in the bathroom closet.

 

  Minho is just about to fall asleep when he hears a small scuffle across the room, the crinkling of paper. He sits up quickly, clutching his blanket to his chest as he squints through the darkness to the shadow across the room.

 

  “Who—Who’s there?”

 

  “Uh?”

 

  “...Chan?”

 

  The vampire steps into the light, a guilty smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck and glances down at his feet.

 

  “Hi, uh, I’m sorry. I came here to give you your present, because I never did earlier, and—Well, I saw you sleeping and decided to just come back tomorrow but then I tripped over something and woke you up and now, well now we’re here.”

 

  Chan rambling warms Minho’s heart, and he reaches over the side of his bed to turn on the lamp he has on the ground beside his mattress.

 

  “C’mere,” Minho pats the space beside him, fighting back a yawn and failing. “Shoes off first.”

 

  Chan kicks off his shoes, catching each one before it can hit the floor and setting it down silently. He looks sheepish, almost nervous as he sits beside Minho on his bed, but Minho just thinks he’s adorable.

 

  “You know you didn’t have to get me anything, right?”

 

  “I wanted to though,” Chan says in a soft voice, handing the box to Minho, who wastes no time in finding the edges and carefully peeling the tape off so he can save the paper. An old habit he had never gotten rid of. Plus, the small tears where Chan had fumbled the wrapping are cute.

 

  Under the paper is a small jewelry box, and Minho is suspicious for a second, glancing over at Chan to see the vampire watching him with muted excitement.

 

  “Oh,” Minho says when he opens the box.

 

  “Do… Do you like it?” Chan asks cautiously, watching Minho run his thumb along the chain with bated breath. “It’s charmed, to help you sleep. I just, I know you haven’t been sleeping well, so…”

 

  “It’s beautiful, Channie.”

 

  It’s just a simple chain really, the links slightly more dainty than the one Chan wears around his own neck, but the silver is pure and reflects the moonlight beautifully, and the metal is warm under his touch.

 

  “Here,” Chan says, taking the chain so he can put is on Minho.

 

  Surprisingly, it’s not uncomfortable like most jewelry is when Minho is tired and looking to sleep. He can barely feel the metal on his skin because is the warmth that it seems to emit, and the feeling of Chan’s cold fingers on the nape of his neck sends a chill down his spine, like goosebumps.

 

  “Thank you, I love it.” Minho hums, touching the chain with his fingers. His eyes feel heavy once more, and he knows he’s going to fall asleep soon.

 

  “I should go.”

 

  Chan’s voice sounds far away, and Minho didn’t even realize that his eyes had fallen shut. He can feel the blankets shifting as Chan starts to leave.

 

  “Stay.” Minho opens his eyes, his vision blurry as he reaches out to Chan. He grabs a hold of Chan’s shirt, unable to hold back yet another yawn. “Please, I don’t want you to go.”

 

  He knows that Chan can’t tell what has been rattling around in his head, that Chan probably doesn’t know that Minho heard him and Hyunjin arguing. So he probably doesn’t know how much the thought of Chan leaving him, at all, tears through him. A thick heavy sadness that settles on his heart and makes it hard to breathe.

 

  Chan is silent for a moment, then, “Okay.”

 

  Minho’s mattress dips as Chan lays down again, settling under the blankets and leaving space between them, which Minho promptly fills.

 

  “You’re not cold?”

 

  “I was sweating when you showed up.” Minho chuckles, knowing that Chan is probably nervous about hurting him, giving him hypothermia. Honestly though, Minho thinks that for the first time in a while, he’s gonna sleep okay.

 

  “Happy birthday Minho.”

 

  Minho sighs, something long and tired. He’s glad his eyes are closed, because he doesn’t think he could deal with crying in front of Chan right now.

 

  “Thank you.”


End file.
